


Uncharted

by arxettutissimanobis



Series: Kaleidoscope Heart [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Academic Castiel, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Arguing, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bartender Dean, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Cooking, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Misunderstandings, Quidditch, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1233697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arxettutissimanobis/pseuds/arxettutissimanobis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel meet in college and become friends right away, but within a few months their relationship starts to evolve. Neither of them know what they’re doing, but they both know they can’t keep sneaking around. These challenges threaten their friendship, but are they ready to face them together? Can they work past their issues and become the partners they were always meant to be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never Knew How Much I Didn't Know

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning of an epic story! This series starts with our boys in college and eventually ends about 10 years in the future. Of course, this all started with one paragraph in the middle of a PWP, but who am I to deny the plot bunnies? This series DOES have a happy ending, I promise.
> 
> The first half of this story is set in the early 2000s (when I went to college) so that’s why their primary mode of communication is emails, back before cell phones were everywhere and texting was commonplace.
> 
> Each chapter has a particular Sara Bareilles song that goes along with it. I make a note at the beginning to let you know - go listen! Thanks, as always, to my wonderful friend and beta Jess (wincechesters.tumblr.com) for all her support.
> 
> Find me on tumblr - arxettutissimanobis.tumblr.com and profanebond.tumblr.com.

I'm going down, follow if you want  
I won't just hang around  
Like you'll show me where to go  
I'm already out of foolproof ideas, so don't ask me how  
To get started, it's all uncharted  
  
Jump start my kaleidoscope heart  
Love to watch the colors fade  
They may not make sense  
But they sure as hell made me  
 _(Uncharted)_  
  


_March 2002_

Today is a day just like any other; there is no subtle sign from the universe announcing that Dean will meet someone who will change his life forever. In fact, the day starts off kind of crappy. They're all out of the good coffee and he's stuck making the cheap stuff shoved in the back of the cupboard, and Sam is stressed about some assignment due next week. The kid drags his feet getting ready for school and Dean makes it to his first class just in time. He barely survives Ancient Roman History without falling asleep (why is he taking that class again?) and only just remembers at the last second before heading home that he has his new cooking class that evening.

He supposes he's not the kind of guy you'd expect to be taking cooking classes at the university - especially not night classes, when he could be using the time to make some extra cash working at the bar - but Sammy has a voracious appetite and Dean gets a bit tired of cooking the same meals consisting of whatever he can throw on a grill. And now the kid is starting to insist that vegetables be included in some of their meals! He almost considered putting his foot down until he realized it's his responsibility as a big brother to cook healthy meals for Sam, who has a lot of growing up to do. Besides, let's face it, Bobby is pretty hopeless in the kitchen unless you want a grilled cheese sandwich or boiled hot dogs. Dean shudders at the thought.

Walking into the Student Union Building, he follows the scent of fresh-baked bread down a hallway and around the corner. He inhales a deep breath and smiles when he sees the teacher. Ellen Harvelle has been a friend of the family since Dean was young and in fact, she had taught Dean most of what he knows as far as cooking and baking as he grew up. The bar where he works, called the Roadhouse, is run by Ellen and her daughter Jo. Ellen grins back and shoos him into the room. Looking at the board, he sees that today's dish is lasagna. _Awesome._

He settles in near the back, grabbing a clean rag to wipe down his workspace and looks around at the others in the class. The expected retirees and middle-aged moms are all accounted for, as well as a couple people he recognizes from his other classes at the university. He nods at Victor, who's sitting next to Tracy. He mentally congratulates his friend; Victor had been hung up on Tracy all last semester and apparently finally asked her out. Cooking classes are always a good bet for a first date, Dean figures.

Unfortunately, as he looks up towards the front of the class, he realizes there's another familiar face in the room. Bela Talbot has been the bane of his existence ever since he turned her down when she asked him out freshman year. He's managed to mostly avoid her this year since he hardly goes to parties anymore, but it looks like he's stuck with her for a couple months. He vaguely recognizes the woman sitting next to Bela as one of her sorority sisters. Bela catches his eye and smiles; one he's sure is meant to be flirty or at least pleasant, but only manages to make his skin crawl.

Most of the students have a partner at the table with them, but Dean is happy cooking by himself. While he might be there a bit later than some of the others, he's confident enough in his skills that he knows he'll be able to keep up. He carries the extra ingredients from his table to the side of the room and sets them in one of the large refrigerators against the wall. Ellen nods and thanks him before he heads back to his seat.

"Good evening! I'm Ms. Harvelle. Thanks for coming," Ellen says, getting everyone's attention. "First of all, there will be no horsing around in my classroom." She looks pointedly at the oldest member of the class, a man who looks to be about eighty; the guy laughs good-naturedly. "And please don't hesitate to ask if you have any questions. Let's get started with the sauce for our lasagna and then we can boil the noodles. The ingredients should be in your caddies on your tables and the recipe is written on the board."

Ellen starts sorting through her own ingredients and sets out the vegetables and herbs, then begins mincing onions. Dean follows suit and is completely focused on the movements of his satisfyingly sharp knife, when he hears Ellen chuckle. He looks up to see another student, off to his right and up one row, sitting straight-backed with his hand in the air. He has seriously crazy bedhead - his hair is dark brown, almost black, sticking up in random spikes everywhere - and is wearing a tan trenchcoat that is clearly too big for him.

"There's no need to raise your hand. Go ahead and speak up," Ellen encourages him.

"Oh, um, all right," the guy says, lowering his hand to his lap. Dean can see now that he hasn't taken anything out of the cubbies to get started. "I think I'm in the wrong class. My cooking skills are a bit... rudimentary." The guy's voice is impossibly low and gravelly.

Bela snickers from the front row, covering her mouth with one hand and Dean levels a glare at her back.

"I see," Ellen says, putting her knife down. "I'm afraid the Basics course is only held in the fall. We can talk to the registrar to see about getting you a refund, or perhaps signed up for a class next year."

The guy's posture slumps a bit, looking much too disappointed by this news. Dean makes a split-second decision and pipes up. "Ell- Ms. Harvelle, I can help him out, if that's OK." He turns to look at the other student, who has now twisted around in his seat. He's struck by the guy's intense blue eyes and nearly forgets he was speaking. Clearing his throat, he addresses the guy. "If you want, you can come bring your stuff over here and work with me."

"Thank you, Dean," Ellen says. "That would be fine."

The other student nods, a serious expression on his face, and begins gathering up his things. Everyone else resumes working on their own dishes, taking the attention off Dean and his new partner.

"Awesome." Dean hops off his stool to pull an extra seat up to his work table and moves his cubbies to the edge. Blue Eyes carries his ingredients over and arranges them neatly, then returns to get his bookbag. Once he's perched on the stool next to Dean, Dean holds out his hand. "I'm Dean Winchester, Chef Extraordinaire," he says with a cheeky grin.

A small twitch of the guy's lips is all he gets in response and he shakes Dean's hand. "Castiel Novak, utter kitchen disaster," he deadpans.

Dean throws back his head and laughs at that. When he focuses on Castiel again, the guy looks a bit dumbstruck. "We'll fix that by the time we're done," he assures him. "Can you work on chopping up the parsley and I'll work on the onions?"

Pulling Castiel's onions towards himself, he gathers up all the parsley and slides it across the table in front of his partner. Castiel takes off his trenchcoat, folding it up and dropping it next to his bookbag. He's wearing a white button-up and black slacks, an outfit that is way too formal for this class in Dean's mind. He watches as Castiel gracefully unbuttons the cuffs and rolls his sleeves to his elbows.

Castiel begins cutting, slowly and carefully. "Are you acquainted with our instructor?" he asks.

"Yep, Ellen's family and mine go way back," Dean answers, amused at the guy's strange way of expressing himself. He flicks his eyes over to watch Castiel's long, graceful fingers, which are holding the knife completely wrong. It's clear no one ever showed him how to place his fingers properly and he's making an utter mess of the parsley.

"Dude, no, no. Look at how I'm holding my knife," Dean says as he continues cutting. Castiel studies him closely and adjusts his grip to match. "There you go. Better."

Castiel smiles just slightly and bends back over his work, concentrating so hard his brow furrows. He continues to shift his eyes towards Dean now and then, attempting to emulate his movements.

"Come on, it doesn't have to be perfect. Time is of the essence here; we don't want to be eating at 10pm every night," Dean teases.

Castiel nods and attempts to chop faster. Dean shakes his head and chuckles. "Why're you takin' this class anyway, if you don't like to cook?"

"It's not that I don't like to. Or at least I don't know if I do," Castiel frowns at his irregularly-chopped herbs. "My roommate threatened to kick me out of the apartment if I set off the smoke alarm in the kitchen one more time. I'm tired of eating cereal and salads."

Once again, Dean gives a full-body laugh and has to wipe tears from his eyes. "Oh, fuck, that's hilarious."

"Language, Dean," Ellen admonishes from a couple tables away; he hadn't noticed she'd started moving around the tables.

"Sorry, ma'am," Dean snarks, earning an eye roll and a smile.

"Don't worry, I've got your back. I'd hate for you to be homeless, man," Dean says to Castiel as he starts adding the ingredients to the sauce pan. He'll give Castiel a chance - maybe he's got a hidden talent for cooking somewhere. It's unlikely he's ever going to be a chef, but Dean's pretty confident in his chances of at least avoiding serious injury on both their parts as he teaches Cas how to make simple dishes.

"I sincerely doubt Michael would actually evict me," Castiel responds seriously, that frown appearing once again.

"It was a joke, Cas." The dude obviously has a sense of humor, but Dean thinks he doesn't realize that he's completely awkward. Maybe he just doesn't care.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Castiel sit up and look at him more directly.

"What?" Dean asks after they stare at each other for a moment. Those blue eyes are completely distracting.

"You called me 'Cas'", he says quietly.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I tend to give my friends nicknames. Won't happen again," Dean apologizes.

"No, it's fine," Cas assures him with a small smile, which just happens to be the biggest smile he's seen on the guy's face yet.

"Awesome."

They boil their noodles and then start layering the ingredients into two baking dishes. Finally it's time to slide their dishes, side by side, into the oven and wait for them to bake. They're definitely the last pair to finish and Dean notices that people are gathered into groups to chat. Turning back, he sees Cas pulling a book out of his bag, clearly hoping to catch up on some homework while their dishes cook. After sitting awkwardly for a couple minutes, he gets up and goes to talk to Victor and Tracy.

Eventually people start to pull their lasagna out of the ovens and clean up their stations. Before she leaves, Bela decides she needs to come by the table and irritate Dean even further.

"I thought you were done taking in strays, Dean," she says, making a tsking sound with her tongue.

"I hardly think it's any of your business, Bela," Dean answers, crossing his arms.

"Hmmm. Well, you should come by the Theta house sometime. The girls miss seeing you. Don't bring the strays." Bela sneers.

"Fuck off," Dean grates out.

"Language," Bela says, one perfectly-plucked eyebrow quirking up. "Bye," she throws over her shoulder as she walks toward the front again.

"What did she mean by 'stray'?" Cas asks quietly. "As of right now, I have a home."

Dean laughs uncomfortably. "Don't listen to her, Cas. She thinks the people I hang out with aren't cool enough for me, based on the fact that I'm a jock. She and her friends were always trying to get me to join a frat - I said 'hell no'."

Cas considers this for a few moments. "You play sports?" He finally asks.

"Yep. Baseball. I have since high school."

Cas nods and offers, "I was in art club."

"Of course you were," Dean teases kindly. He really has never been comfortable with the 'jock' label, and is always irritated that high school drama didn't end there.

Once their dishes are done, at last, they pack up their belongings and get bundled up against the cold air outside. Cas runs a hand through his hair - that explains the bedhead - and bites his bottom lip. "Dean, I can't thank you enough for helping me."

"Hey, man, don't mention it. I don't mind taking you under my wing," Dean assures him. Cas looks entirely too relieved to hear it and Dean shakes his head. He ignores the way his heart speeds up when Cas gazes at him through his eyelashes and absolutely doesn't stare at Cas' mouth as his lips quirk up into a small smile.

They thank Ellen on their way out, who winks at Dean, causing him to blush slightly. Cas gets into an old beat up VW bug and Dean makes his way to the Impala. All through dinner, even as Sam is raving about how good the lasagna is, Dean can't seem to get the vision of blue eyes and dark, disheveled hair out of his head.

 

* * *

 

Over the weekend, there's a huge early spring snowstorm that dumps about a foot of snow on the ground. The day of class is bitterly cold and Dean grins at the message on the board: "The Perfect Meal for Staying Warm - Chili and Cornbread!" He remembers Ellen making chili when he was a kid and is ecstatic that he'll be learning the secrets of that recipe. He pulls Ellen into a hug and she laughs, squeezing him tight.

Even though Cas isn't there yet, Dean pulls over an extra stool and sets up his workspace with two sets of ingredients. He keeps looking toward the door when people walk in, but the minutes tick by and there's no Cas. He tries not to worry that Cas gave up on the class altogether. Sure, the guy may have had a hard time during the first class, and the other students hadn't exactly made it easy - Bela especially. Where does she get off laughing because someone hasn't ever been taught how to cook? She probably grew up with a chef cooking all their meals and demanded to be taught how to cook. He hopes Cas hadn't taken any of that to heart, including the thing about Dean collecting strays, as if that even made any sense. He glares at the back of Bela's head just for good measure.

When Ellen calls the class to order, Dean starts to really get worried. What if something had happened to Cas? Dean would never know. He should have asked for the guy's email address or phone number, just in case he wasn't going to be able to make it to class tonight. Finally Cas bustles in almost ten minutes late, apologizing to Ellen, who waves him along. He comes to sit next to Dean and hunches over on the stool, shivering. He's wearing the same trenchcoat and nothing else to keep warm: no hat, scarf or mittens.

"Hey man, you OK?" Dean asks.

Cas levels that blue-eyed gaze on him and Dean draws in a sharp breath. He'd forgotten the power of that stare over the past week. Cas blinks slowly. "I'm fine, thank you, Dean. My car almost wouldn't start, and when it finally did, it took forever to warm up."

"Dude, that sucks. You probably need a new battery. Or a new car," Dean suggests, thinking about that ridiculous VW Cas drives.

"So you're a master mechanic as well as a chef extraordinaire?" Cas retorts, a hint of a smile just visible on his face.

Dean slides over the veggies they're going to use today. "Maybe," he replies. "Get chopping."

With a quiet laugh, Cas focuses on his task, amassing large piles of onions as Dean cooks the meat.

"Hey, you're doing a lot better with the knife this time, Cas." Dean wants to make sure to encourage him as they work, the fear that Cas will give up on the class - and disappear from Dean's life - still fresh in his mind.

"I bought a large quantity of vegetables and practiced," Cas confesses, ducking his head. "Michael was not amused by the abundance of onions in our apartment on Sunday."

"Nice work, man!" Dean throws his head back and laughs, surprising himself. He feels like he hasn't laughed this much in a long time. Something about Castiel - this bookish, quiet, sheltered guy who talks like he swallowed a dictionary - clicks effortlessly with Dean and he decides not to question it.

After they add everything to the pot and let it simmer, they start on the cornbread. They slide the bread into the last available oven and set it to bake.

"That needs to be in there for twenty five minutes," Dean reminds Cas as they sit down at their table. For a few minutes there's an awkward silence, until Dean can't stand it anymore. "So, you go to the university?"

Cas looks up from where he was messing with the discarded onion skins and nods. "I'm a junior. I'm majoring in Religious Studies and Ancient Languages, with a minor in Philosophy."

Dean is not at all sure that he heard correctly. "What? You're a double major? And one is religion? That sounds… kind of boring, I have to admit."

"Well I suppose it would be if one weren't interested in it. But I am. And the classes I've taken will help when I get my Masters and Doctorate degrees. What are you majoring in?"

"Dude. You're already planning all that? Wow," Dean rubs his hand on the back of his neck. He's just planning on getting through these four years and then moving on with his life. "I'm majoring in Mechanical Engineering and might minor in History or something. Nothing exciting."

"Do you enjoy it?" Cas looks at him seriously, tilting his head and looking like he actually cares about what Dean has to say.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Cas nods decisively and they lapse into silence once more.

"How much longer for the bread?" Dean asks after a while.

"Hmm?" Cas had been staring out one of the windows, seemingly lost in thought.

"On the timer; how much time does it say is left?"

"The... timer?"

Dean stands up off his stool, turning towards the oven their bread is in. "Cas!! You were supposed to - !"

Before they can even rush to the oven to check, Ellen calls out, "I smell a failing grade! Whoever that belongs to better get it to the windows before the sprinklers switch on."

The rest of the class scrambles to cover up the food in their workspaces in case the sprinklers do start up, and Dean can hear people complaining and swearing in their direction. Cas snatches the blackening bread from the oven, running to the windows and opening one. Instead of setting it on the sill like Dean expects, however, he tosses the pan out the window, where it lands with a muffled thump in the snow.

Dean smacks his forehead with his palm and groans. "Cas. Dude. _Overkill_."

When he looks up, he sees a stricken expression on the guy's face and decides to cut him a break. "We can make another batch. Come on."

Once the new pan is in the oven, Dean sets the kitchen timer and places it on the table. He goes to pull the bread out when it's finished and wraps two packages up in tin foil. They wait for their chili to finish as the rest of the class is packing up to leave. Almost as soon as Cas' portion is ladled into a plastic container, he takes off toward the door. Dean thinks it's odd that Cas isn't going to walk out with him like last time, or even say goodbye, but he doesn't want to let him get away.

"Cas! I want to talk to you about something," Dean calls out. The other student turns back, and Dean only has a moment to register the odd, almost sad, look on his face before he starts speaking quickly.

"It's all right, Dean. I understand that you don't want to help me anymore. I can muddle through on my own or perhaps I will drop the class. Thank you for everything you've done." He turns away once more and takes three whole steps before Dean's brain kicks in again.

"Wait! No, that's not what I was going to say! Jesus, Cas. I don't mind helping you. I don't want you to quit," Dean says, surprising himself with how strongly he feels about this. Now that he's met Cas, he really doesn't want to let him go, and he's almost desperate to hold on.

"But why?" Cas isn't facing him, but Dean sees his shoulders hunched over and his hands balled in fists.

"Because we're friends!" Dean thought they'd been clear on this point; apparently they hadn't. Cas spins to face him, his eyes burning bright.

"You're not my friend," Cas says slowly.

That hurt more than Dean had expected - he's not going to lie. "Ouch, dude."

Now Cas looks really confused. "You barely know anything about me. Plus, it's bad for your reputation to be seen with someone like me."

"What? Oh my god. I don't give a rat's ass what people like Bela think of me or the people I choose to be friends with," Dean says, stepping toward Cas where he's leaning against a work table for support.

"I want to get to know you, OK?" Dean places a hand lightly on Cas' shoulder. "And help you learn to cook. Or at least prevent you from burning your apartment building down." He shakes Cas' shoulder gently and watches him take a deep breath.

Finally, Cas meets his eyes again and nods. He huffs a quiet, shaky laugh and looks away. Dean notices he's still touching Cas' shoulder, so he takes his hand back as casually as possible.

"So what did you really want to talk to me about just now?" Cas asks as Dean takes a step back, putting some space between them.

"I was wondering if you were free this Saturday and wanted to come over to my house. We're having our monthly game night. We get pizza, watch TV, stay up all night, that sort of thing."

Cas' mouth forms an 'o' and he looks embarrassed all over again. "That sounds... fun. What kind of games do you usually play?"

"Card games, probably some D&D, the usual."

"Dungeons & Dragons?" Cas clarifies. "I've never played."

Dean's eyes go wide. "Really?"

"No. I'm sorry."

"Dude, it's OK. Charlie will teach you, no worries."

"Well, I have a lot of schoolwork to do, so I'm not sure if I can," Cas says, looking conflicted.

"Let me give you my email address. If you want to come, send me a message, OK?" Dean can see he's hesitant and doesn't want to push the guy. Dean writes down his address on a scrap of paper and hands it over and Cas tucks it into a pocket of his trenchcoat. Dean remembers his observation from when Cas arrived at class earlier in the evening and offers to give his friend his scarf. After a few minutes of steadfastly refusing, Dean finally convinces him by saying he has another one in the car.

They finally head out, walking together into the cold night air. Cas admits he really needed the scarf and Dean laughs, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder once again. He really wants Cas to come over this weekend, more than anything he's wanted in a really long time.


	2. I've Been Saving Your Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly underage drinking in this chapter - Dean, Cas and Charlie are all 20.

Won't somebody come on in and tug at my seams?  
Oh, send your armies in of robbers and thieves  
To steal the state I'm in I don't want it anymore  
 _(Basket Case)_  
  


 _March 2002_  
  
By Thursday evening, Dean still hasn't heard anything from Cas. It's been two days since their last class and he's starting to worry that Cas didn't take him seriously, even after Dean explained that he honestly wanted to get to know him and didn't care what other people thought. Although Cas can’t possibly know, Dean is very particular about his close friends. He’ll pal around with his teammates and the assistant coach, and he’s nice to anyone who’s not a complete dick. But when it comes to true friends - the kind he confides in and might occasionally talk about his feelings with - he only has two.  
  
Meeting Charlie in programming class was the best thing to ever happen to him. He can literally be having the worst day of his life and Charlie still has a chance of cheering him up. Seeing her complete confidence in herself and how she embraces the title of "nerd" gave him the freedom to admit that yeah, he likes science fiction and fantasy books and TV shows. Yeah, he likes dressing up in medieval outfits and having sword fights in the middle of the forest. And that doesn’t make him any less cool. She helps keeps his head on straight, that’s for sure.  
  
Then there’s Ash. The guy has the stupidest haircut this side of the new millennium and yet he is just about the coolest person Dean has ever met. He worked at the bar when Dean started, back during senior year of high school, after his dad died and Dean and Sam moved in with Bobby. Dean had never even considered going to college, but when Bobby insisted he give it a try, Dean turned around and insisted he’d get a job to help pay for school. Bobby wasn’t any more well off than Dean’s dad had been and wouldn't be able to pay for school for Dean _and_ Sam. And Sam had to go to college; there was no question about that.  
  
Dean and Ash had endless conversations about classic cars during lulls at the Roadhouse. Eventually, Ash brought in his laptop and showed Dean his 3D models of car engines, which convinced Dean that Ash was some sort of computer-hacker car genius. In the end, it was Ash’s idea that Dean major in Mechanical Engineering, and even though Dean was confident he’d never be as good with computers as Ash, he has to admit he’s enjoying his classes.  
  
So here he is - stressing about the decision to include a new person in his life and whether the guy will even give him a chance. At this point he’s checking his email at least twice an hour, just waiting for some hint from Cas. He seeks to distract himself by working on the Impala or watching TV, even falling back on his last resort: homework. It doesn’t take long for Sam to notice that something is up, but then again it’s kind of obvious when Dean has all his books spread across the kitchen table and his head in his hands.  
  
“Dean, _what_ is going on? Sam asks, sitting down across the table and popping open a can of soda. "You've been moping around the house for the past two days."  
  
“Nothing, Sammy; everything’s fine. Just trying to catch up on some studying,” Dean says as he pulls his head up and starts shuffling things around.  
  
“Right,” Sam scoffs. “That’s why you have a Roman History book on top of a Calculus book and-” he slides the math book over “- the Chilton manual for the Impala.”  
  
“I’m multitasking,” Dean says with a glare.  
  
Sam gives him a doubtful look and leverages himself out of his seat. After he grabs a bag of chips, he moves to the living room and turns on the TV. As usual, the volume is up way too high and Dean can hear every line of dialogue between Bart and Homer.  
  
“That’s very distracting!” Dean shouts.  
  
“Come on, man, _The Simpsons_ is on! You’re not actually studying, anyway.”  
  
Dean sits for another five minutes, trying to keep up the pretense, before he sighs and goes to join his brother. He ignores the smug look on the kid’s face and steals the bag from his hands.  
  
“Is Kevin coming over this weekend for game night?” Dean asks during the next commercial.  
  
“Yeah, I think so. His mom wanted him to stay home and practice his cello all weekend, but he convinced her to let him come. I think he claimed we’d be studying,” Sam answers.  
  
“Nice. I invited a guy from my cooking class, but I don’t know if he’ll come,” Dean says, nonchalant. “You’ll like him. He’s a nerd.” He elbows Sam in the ribs.  
  
“You’re such a jerk!” Sam rolls his eyes and turns back to the show.  
  
On Friday morning he’s getting ready for his one class of the day when he hears his computer ding. Caught as he's pulling his t-shirt over his head, he rushes to the desk and clicks on the email program. He sees the latest message and grins.  
  
 **To: Dean**  
 **From: Castiel Novak**  
 **Subject: your invitation**  
  
 **Hello, Dean.**  
 **I was able to complete my assignments ahead of time and would like to come to your house this weekend, if the invitation still stands.**  
 **Thank you very much.**  
 **Sincerely, Castiel**  
  
Laughing at the formality Cas can't seem to ditch, Dean fires off a reply assuring him that he wants him to come and includes his address and directions.  
  
Sam drags Dean out of bed early Saturday morning and they head to the grocery store to get snacks for that night. It’s as he’s standing in the chip aisle that Dean realizes he has no idea what kind of junk food Cas likes. They’d talked at length about their favorite meals growing up and given Ellen suggestions for future classes, but somehow the topic of potato chips and frozen pizza never came up. He shrugs, adding a variety of chips and candy to his basket. Sam rolls his eyes when he sees Dean’s selections, but Dean insists that his friend is a big fan of junk food and Sam seems to buy that.  
  
Charlie is sitting on his couch, playing a game on the Wii, when he and Sam return. She pauses her game and arches an eyebrow when he has to run back to the Impala for a second round of grocery bags.  
  
"Did someone get hit with a craving for junk food or something?" She teases when he returns, walking over to lean against the kitchen counter.  
  
"You think you're clever, dontcha?" Dean shoots back as he loads up the fridge with sodas and chip dip. He sets aside the avocados and other ingredients for guacamole.  
  
Charlie’s eyes widen at the sight. “Merlin’s Beard! You're making your famous guac, too? What's the occasion?"  
  
"Nothing special," Dean protests. "Can't a guy just feel like making guacamole?"  
  
Choosing that moment to pipe up from where he’s slouching at the kitchen table, Sam interjects, "Dean's got a new friend coming over to join us and he wants to make a good impression."  
  
"Shut up, Sammy."  
  
"Ooooh, what's her name?" Charlie props her chin in her hands and bats her eyelashes. "Is she pretty?"  
  
"Chill out. It's not a girl." Dean mashes the avocados more violently than is probably necessary.  
  
"Well, same question. Is he pretty?"  
  
"No," Dean immediately answers, refusing to meet Charlie’s eyes.  
  
The doorbell rings and though its far too early for Cas to he there, Dean’s heart skips and his stomach fills with butterflies _What the hell is wrong with him?_  
  
“That’s probably Kevin,” Sam says as he springs out of his chair and goes to answer the door.  
  
“Dean…” Charlie starts, voice quiet. He looks at her and sees the earnest expression on her face and he just can not deal with this right now.  
  
“Will you go clean up the coffee table so we can eat out there? I know there’s junk all over it,” Dean interjects before she goes any further.  
  
She presses her lips into a flat line, obviously struggling not to argue. “OK. We’ll talk later.”  
  
“Mmhmm,” Dean answers noncommittally and continues putting together food for the evening.  
  
He knows very well that Charlie would be the last person to judge him if he was attracted to someone of the same gender; she’s been dating her girlfriend Dorothy for over a year. But Dean’s not attracted to Cas. Not at all. Just because he likes being around the guy, and thinks he’s funny as hell, and looks forward to seeing him every class, does not mean he wants to date him, or kiss him, or have sex with him. They’re just friends, and that’s all they’ll ever be.  
  
Ash bursts through the door not long after. He’s carrying a 12 pack of beer for “after the kids go to sleep”, which earns him a glare from Sam. In reality, Sam has stated that he hates the taste of beer and doesn’t have any interest in drinking, but Bobby would kick Dean’s ass if he drank while the teenagers are hanging out with him.  
  
Charlie starts up an episode of The Next Generation while the first round of pizzas is in the oven and Dean forgets to even be nervous about the fact that Cas is coming. When the doorbell does finally ring at 6 on the dot, his head jerks up so fast that everyone laughs.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, jerks," Dean grouses as he gets up to open the door.  
  
And there's Cas, standing on the front porch in that damn trenchcoat, looking just about as nervous as always. His shoulders are slightly slumped and his hair looks like he's been running his hands through it constantly all day. He’s wearing Dean’s scarf and Dean hopes like hell no one else notices.  
  
"Hey Cas! Come on in." Dean leads the way through the house and finds everyone eagerly facing him as they enter the living room. He rolls his eyes. "Everyone, this is Cas. Cas, this is my brother Sammy -"  
  
"Sam," he interjects.  
  
"Yeah, whatever. Sam’s friend Kevin, and this is Charlie and Ash."  
  
"It's very nice to meet all of you,” Cas says solemnly, nodding his head at them.  
  
Dean meets Charlie's gaze and she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. He frowns and shakes his head, but she just laughs and addresses Cas, "Come sit down! Throw your coat over a chair or something."  
  
"We do have a coat closet, you know," Dean protests, but everyone laughs.  
  
"Yeah, but we never use it," Sam says.  
  
Dean hears the oven timer go off and throws his hands into the air, stalking into the kitchen. "Food's ready if anyone's hungry. Otherwise I'll just eat it myself..."  
  
A small stampede ensues and Cas is left standing in the living room looking lost. He follows more slowly, standing off to one side as everyone loads up their plates with pizza and chips. After fighting over who took too much guacamole and how Sam always drinks the last of the root beer, the herd migrates back into the living room, leaving Dean and Cas alone among the junk food.  
  
“You can have whatever’s left after those animals came through,” Dean teases, loading another batch of pizza into the oven. A moment later, he hears a loud, obscene moan and in his haste to turn around he nearly burns himself on the hot surface. Hands safely extracted from the oven, he sees Cas standing with his eyes closed, holding a half eaten chip in front of his mouth. Dean’s face feels uncomfortably flushed as he watches his friend eat.  
  
“Um, Cas?”  
  
Cas' eyes pop open and he scoops up more guacamole from his plate. "This is delicious!" he explains before he eats the next bite.  
  
Dean rubs the back of his neck and waves toward the other room. "Glad you think so. Let's go sit down.”  
  
He finds that Charlie has saved two seats on the couch for him and Cas, so he sits against the arm of the couch with a deep sigh, glaring over at Charlie where she’s perched on the other end. Cas sits rigidly in the middle, balancing his plate carefully on his lap. It’s as he watches his friend trying to get comfortable that Dean notices what Cas is wearing: very nearly the same suit he wears to class.  
  
“You know, Cas, you don’t have to dress all fancy when you come to hang out here,” Dean says after taking a bite of pepperoni pizza.  
  
“This is what I always wear,” Cas protests, looking down at his outfit with a frown. “I don’t really have any recreational clothes.”  
  
“No t-shirts or jeans?” Dean asks incredulously. Cas just shakes his head, his eyebrows lifting, making him look more worried than confused. “Well, maybe we’ll have to fix that - go shopping or something,” Dean offers. He ignores the surprised looks he gets from both Sam and Charlie and smiles at Cas.  
  
“Thank you, Dean.”  
  
“Don’t mention it.”  
  
Once they finish eating and clear off the coffee table again, it’s time to pull out Dungeons  & Dragons. As always, Charlie is the Dungeon Master and she sits with Cas, helping him create a character. She even shows him her tattoo of Princess Leia on a 20-sided die. Dean totally doesn’t think Cas’ subsequent blush is at all adorable.  
  
As they play, Dean is glad to see that Cas fits in well with his friends and seems to be enjoying himself. By the time they call a stop to the game four hours later, Cas is completely relaxed against the side of the couch, chatting and laughing with all of Dean’s friends. Around midnight, Sam and Kevin head upstairs, prompting Ash to run into the kitchen to grab the beers. He gleefully begins passing them out, then sits back in the recliner with a happy sigh.  
  
Cas holds the beer he was given away from his body like it might be poisonous and looks shocked when Dean opens his beer and takes a long sip.  "I'm... I'm not 21, Dean. You’re not either!”  
  
Ash snorts obnoxiously, muttering “like that’s ever stopped him” and Dean glares at him and turns back to Cas. "No, I’m not. But its just us, hanging out at home. No big deal. But I can grab you another soda or something.”  
  
It looks to Dean as though Cas is giving the decision a lot of thought, so he leads off a discussion about the episode of Star Trek playing on the TV. It has the desired effect of taking the attention off Cas, and out of the corner of his eye he sees his friend twist off the cap and take a hesitant sip. The expression of sheer disgust that crosses Cas’ face is enough that Dean has to stifle a laugh.  
  
“It’s an acquired taste,” he murmurs to Cas.  
  
“Apparently,” Cas responds flatly, wrinkling his nose and taking another drink. Dean just shakes his head.  
  
They make their way through several beers between them and a couple more Star Trek episodes and before long, Ash and Charlie are sprawled out on the floor, fast asleep under blankets and comforters. Dean and Cas sit in companionable silence on the couch, drinking their beers.  
  
“Gonna sleep over, Cas?” Dean asks, slurring slightly.  
  
“Yes, I’d better. Those two beers were quite enough.”  
  
“Dude, even when you’re drunk you still talk all formal,” Dean’s head lolls to the side to look at Cas’ profile. “What’s up with that? And you’ve never drank before and you thought my guacamole was like a revelation or something….” Dean loses track of his train of thought.  
  
Without looking at Dean, Cas starts speaking quietly. "My family is very religious and strict. We used to eat dinner together every night, no excuses. Snacks were frowned upon."  
  
"But didn't you sneak junk food at your friends' houses?"  
  
"I only had one close friend in high school and he went to my church," Cas explains, voice low. “He’s the only one my parents would let me spend time with. He’s my roommate here at school.”  
  
"That sucks, Cas, I'm not gonna lie."  
  
"Yes, but I really didn’t know any different. I've not had much luck making friends since I came here, until I met you.” Cas looks at him solemnly, those deep blue eyes pulling him in.  
  
Finally looking away, Dean sits up. “And now you have two more friends! Plus I think Sammy likes you a lot. I wouldn't be surprised if you end up being better friends with him, geeking out over literature and shit."  
  
"No, Dean, you're my best friend," Cas is getting sleepy and doesn’t realize what he said until a moment later. He sits up a bit and tries to correct himself. "I mean, not that we're _best friends_ -“  
  
“Chill out. I'm just glad you don't like Sam more than me. That would really hurt."  
  
Cas laughs, which makes Dean laugh, and before they know it they're both giggling uncontrollably, squirming around on the couch. Ash groans from the floor and tells them to shut up, and Cas lies back on the couch, trying to catch his breath.  
  
“I can loan you something comfortable to sleep in,” Dean offers and when Cas nods, he runs upstairs, returning with his softest t-shirt and some flannel pants. As Cas changes in the bathroom, Dean settles into one corner of the couch and is nearly asleep when Cas comes back.  
  
Suddenly Dean feels a lot more awake and can’t seem to take his eyes off of his friend wearing his clothes. He’s had girlfriends wear his clothes, in the past, but somehow this is different. Seeing someone with a similar build as himself - slightly less muscular and a bit more gangly - wearing his clothes is completely surprising. When he sits down, Cas catches him staring and stares right back, no doubt wondering what the hell has gotten into his friend.  
  
Dean throws on a cocky grin. “Don't worry, Cas, you'll grow into them,” he teases.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Cas settles back into the couch.  
  
Dean suggests they watch another episode of Star Trek and Cas agrees. By the time Captain Picard reveals his genius plan to save the ship, they’re both fast asleep. Charlie may or may not snap a picture of them tangled up together on the couch when she wakes up in the morning.


	3. Hold on to Worry So Tight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas suffers a small injury in this chapter and there’s some description of blood. I have essentially no tolerance for gore/blood and it made me slightly uncomfortable to write, so if that’s a trigger for you, please keep that in mind.

If my hands could hold them you'd see  
I'd take all these secrets in me  
And I'd move and mold them to be  
Something I'd set free  
 _(Let The Rain)_

  
 _April 2002_  
  
When the next week rolls around, it seems as though spring is finally on its way. The snow has melted and early spring flowers have begun to appear. Dean’s looking forward to summer break, but not because he plans to hang out at the reservoir and work on his tan; instead, he knows he’ll be able to pick up far more hours at work. At the pace he’s been saving money during the school year, Dean has no hope of ever paying Bobby back for his tuition before Dean is old and grey.  
  
Cas is already at their work table sorting through the ingredients for the night when Dean arrives at the cooking class Tuesday evening. Taking a minute to observe the man unnoticed, he watches how his hair falls over his forehead and the smallest hint of a frown appears as he concentrates on the task at hand. Dean thinks of the morning they woke up together on the couch and how he was lucky enough to see firsthand how adorable Cas is as he wakes up. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, with Dean's t-shirt twisted around his torso, Cas complained about his head aching and the way his mouth seemed to be stuffed with cotton balls. Dean had clapped his hand on Cas' shoulder and congratulated him on his first hangover.  
  
Looking up, Cas meets Dean’s gaze with a small smile and brings him back to the present. Clearing his throat and breaking his eyes away, he sets his stuff down and helps Cas arrange their supplies. He bumps his shoulder against Cas’ and asks how his friend has been the past few days. They banter back and forth effortlessly about school and their plans for the upcoming weekend until Ellen starts the session. Today they’re making baked chicken, which is something Dean cooks quite often for Sam, but it looks like Ellen has spiced it up with garlic and lime, and he’s excited to try it out.  
  
As per their new routine, he hands Cas half the items that need to be chopped and gets him started, and gets to work himself. They're chatting about classes and their least favorite teachers when Cas suddenly whispers “damn” and then falls silent. Setting his knife down carefully, Dean looks over at his friend and sees him holding a towel to his hand, with his eyes squeezed shut and lips pressed together in a thin line.  
  
"Cas, what did you do?" Dean asks teasingly, but then he notices the red stain spreading rapidly through the fabric. "Dude! What did you do?" He says more urgently as he feels the adrenaline begin to kick in, propelling him to his feet.  
  
Ellen is at their table before Dean can call her over and Cas peels away the towel, keeping his eyes averted.  
  
"Oh yeah, that'll need stitches," Ellen says quietly, putting her hand lightly on Cas' shoulder.  
  
Cas groans as Dean tears his eyes from his face and glances down. The side of his friend's left forefinger has been sliced open quite deep and, of course, it’s bleeding profusely. Ellen shifts the towel over Cas' hand again, and moves his free hand over it so it keeps pressure on the wound. Cas' right hand is trembling and Dean knows this is going to be a very crappy evening.  
  
Turning to their teacher, Dean offers, "I can take him to the emergency room."  
  
Ellen looks at him appraisingly for a moment, one eyebrow raised, then her expression softens into a knowing smile. She thanks him, and Dean can tell she was worried she’d have to cut class short and deal with the situation herself, but he doesn’t want to think about why she keeps grinning at him as he leans close to Cas. She pats Cas’ shoulder one more time, then starts to circulate among the other students. Relieved that everyone has turned back to their own workstations, Dean starts to gather up their belongings, throwing both their bookbags over one shoulder.  
  
“You doing OK, buddy?” Dean asks quietly.  
  
Cas nods as he gets to his feet and leans heavily on the table. “I don’t much like the sight of blood,” he confesses.  
  
“Neither do I,” Dean replies with a chuckle. “Let’s go.” Putting his hand under Cas’ elbow lightly, he leads him down the center aisle of the classroom. He can't seem to help looking to the side as he passes Bela's table, and sees her smirking at them as they make their way toward the door.  
  
"He's so hopeless," she stage-whispers to her partner. "He shouldn't even be allowed to be in this class."  
  
"Ms. Talbot, that's enough commentary," Ellen admonishes, her face carefully blank.  
  
"Sorry, Ms. Harvelle," Bela apologizes, obviously not the least bit sorry.  
  
Once they’re out the door and walking down the hall, Dean considers letting his hand fall away, but his friend leans in closer. Taking a deep breath, Cas says, “I strongly dislike her.”  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean can see Cas has a stormy expression on his face, as if he’d like to smite Bela where she sits. He would absolutely be down with that. “Yeah, she loves to act all high and mighty. Just trying to cover up how miserable she is."  
  
Cas snorts his agreement.  
  
When they reach the car, Dean opens the passenger side door and Cas rolls his eyes as he sits down, telling him, “I can manage. Thank you, Dean.”  
  
Putting both hands up in front of himself with a smirk, Dean walks around and tosses their bags in the back seat, then slides in behind the wheel. When he turns to buckle himself in, he notices Cas is having a hard time holding the buckle with his injured hand. Dean just watches with amusement until Cas huffs and mumbles, “will you help me, please?”  
  
He holds the buckle still while Cas guides the shoulder strap in and tries not to laugh. Cas just grumbles and adjusts the rag on his hand. He takes a sharp breath as he does so and tips his head back, closing his eyes. “Let’s go, Dean.”  
  
Seeing his friend’s pained expression kicks Dean’s protective instinct into overdrive again and it’s all he can do to keep his car under the speed limit. He remembers the few occasions when Sam was young when he’d fallen or cut himself and Dean had rushed him to the hospital. He’d never been more scared and he tries to fight down that feeling now; Cas’ injury is hardly life threatening, but Dean’s body won’t listen to his brain. Within five minutes, they pull up in front of the small hospital just off campus and Dean parks in the ER lot. He runs around again, opening Cas' door and helping him unbuckle. He guides Cas to the door with a gentle hand on his back; as unnecessary as he knows it is, he can’t resist the need to keep in contact with his friend.  
  
By this time, the towel around Cas' hand looks truly frightening - it’s almost completely red - and the intake nurse looks grave as she asks what happened. Dean thinks it probably appears as though Cas lost an entire finger or something.  
  
“He cut his finger in cooking class. It’s kind of deep, but it didn’t look like it hit any tendons or anything,” Dean rushes to explain. The nurse nods and hands Cas a clipboard with a form, which he takes with a sideways glance at Dean.  
  
 _Right, I need to chill out_ , Dean thinks.  
  
The emergency room seems pretty quiet tonight; there's a few families waiting, but he doesn't focus on them. Instead he watches Cas fill out the endless pages of information with only a slight tremble of his hand. Before he finishes, a nurse comes out and gestures for Cas to follow her. Dean stays seated, unsure if his friend wants his company, but Cas looks back at him with an expectant look. Cas’ lips curl into a relieved smile as Dean stands and joins them.  
  
They follow the nurse into an exam room and Cas perches on the edge of the table while Dean sits in one of the chairs. An attractive, middle-aged woman in a lab coat breezes in a few minutes later and smiles sincerely at Cas. "Looks like we had a mishap," she says as she washes her hands and snaps on a pair of gloves, then steps to Cas' side. "I'm Dr. Barnes," she introduces herself.  
  
"I'm Castiel," he says. "I clearly should give up learning how to cook, because it always ends badly."  
  
Dean rises to his feet, moving to stand next to his friend. "Come on, Cas, you're getting better in general. You just have to pay attention,” he protests.  
  
"I guess." Cas winces as Dr. Barnes removes the towel.  
  
"Oooh, yeah, gotta be careful with those knives," she says good-naturedly, and bends down to look closely. "Let's get this cleaned and numbed, then I’ll put in a few stitches. It doesn't look like there's any serious damage."  
  
Dr. Barnes gets to work and Dean presses himself close to Cas, offering his support. Cas smiles up at him, so Dean wraps his left arm around Cas' shoulders, causing him to relax and lean his head on Dean’s shoulder. They watch as he doctor finishes rinsing off his injury and reaches for the syringe of local anesthesia.  
  
"Time for the needle, OK, Castiel?” The doctor smiles up at Dean and he wonders belatedly about how this looks, with him and Cas huddled so close together, but decides this isn’t the time to worry about it. "Good. We'll give it a minute to take effect. How you feeling?” she asks after she administers the anesthesia.  
  
Cas sits up a bit, assuring the doctor that he’s fine. She strips off her gloves and pats Cas' knee. With a smirk, she looks up at Dean. and teases, “How many more classes do you two have? Am I going to be seeing you again?”  
  
“There’s a few more sessions,” Cas answers, unaware that she’s teasing. “But I promise I’ll be careful.”  
  
“Mmhmm. All right, time to fix this up and send you home," she says, putting fresh gloves on and sitting on her stool. "Can you feel this?" She pokes at the inside of Cas' index finger and when he shakes his head 'no', starts to stitch him up.  
  
Looking away from the stitches, Cas leans into Dean again. Wrapping his fingers around his friend's free hand as it rests on his lap, Dean squeezes lightly and feels Cas squeeze right back. Cas keeps breathing steadily as Dr. Barnes puts four stitches in his finger, then wraps it up with gauze.  
  
"And we're done!" She says cheerfully as she stands, beginning to clear the clutter off her tray. "Don't get that wet, and we’ll have you come back in about ten days. Call me if it starts to look really red or gross, OK?"  
  
The doctor grins, looking between the two men, settling on Dean. "You take care of this young man, all right?"  
  
Dean feels a blush spread over his cheeks and he scratches his neck. “Yeah, sure, doc. I'll try to keep him from cutting off any toes or anything."  
  
Cas turns to glare at him as he carefully stands up. Grinning, Dean takes the packet of aftercare information the doctor hands over and tucks it under his arm as they move out the door. They stop off to finish Cas' paperwork and give the front desk his insurance information, then head out the front doors.  
  
"Thank you, Dean. I appreciate all your help."  
  
"Any time, man. You want me to take you home?" Dean asks as they settle into the Impala.  
  
With a deep sigh Cas nods, setting a hand against his stomach. "We didn't finish making dinner, so I guess I'll have to find something in the freezer that I can heat up."  
  
"That's just sad, dude. I'll probably put together some baked chicken like we would’ve made in class; you can come to my house and eat if you want," Dean says, pulling out of the parking lot.  
  
"No, Dean, you've already done so much to help me. I can't ask you to do more." Cas' blue eyes are bright in the darkness of the car, reflecting each streetlight they pass.  
  
"You're not asking. I'm offering. I can't stand the thought of you eating some crappy Hot Pocket anyway," he insists. "I can take you home after, or you can crash on the couch again. We'll throw on some Star Trek or something."  
  
"Are you sure?" Cas asks, picking at the wrapping on his finger.  
  
"Leave that alone, Cas. Yes, I'm sure. What do you say?"  
  
"All right. That sounds nice."  
  
"Nice? You haven't had my chicken. It's fucking awesome."  
  
"Whatever you say, Dean."  
  
Sam is duly concerned about Cas' injury when they arrive at the Winchester house and Dean banishes them to the living room with a grin so Cas can tell him all about what happened. He can hear snippets of their conversation when they switch to talking about some book being made into a movie and he laughs at his nerdy brother and his nerdy best friend. Who would have thought they would get along so well?  
  
Bobby comes home after closing up the garage just as Dean is finishing with dinner, and he finally gets to meet Cas. While he’s nervous at first due to Bobby’s gruff demeanor, Cas visibly relaxes over the course of the meal as they talk about Sam and Dean’s antics when they were younger and the injuries that resulted.  
  
Once they’re done eating and the dishes are all in the dishwasher, Sam goes back to studying and Bobby heads to bed. Dean takes Cas up to his room and gestures to the clothes from the last time he stayed over, still neatly folded on Dean’s desk. He leaves Cas to change and when he gets back, he finds Cas perusing his bookshelves, looking rumpled and comfortable in his borrowed clothes.  
  
“How’s your hand?” Dean asks quietly, holding out a couple Tylenol and a glass of water.  
  
Cas jumps slightly and turns to face Dean with wide eyes. He waves off Dean’s apology, taking the painkillers and answers, “It hurts a bit."  
  
Sliding onto his bed, Dean pats the space beside him. Once Cas swallows the pills, he climbs up next to him, hesitating a moment before he leans his shoulder into Dean's.  
  
"You sure were calm today after you got hurt, man," Dean says after a few minutes of companionable silence.  
  
Without any explanation, Cas leans forward and rolls his pant leg up over his knee. There's a faded but visible scar running along the inside of his calf, at least four inches long. Dean nods in understanding, murmuring, "you've had some experience then."  
  
"Plus, the adrenaline masks the pain for awhile," Cas adds. "By the time I was really in pain, we were in the car."  
  
Dean hums his agreement, not wanting to discuss just how affected he had been that afternoon, and watches Cas cover his leg again. When his friend settles back against him, he somehow sneaks under Dean's right arm, snuggling close. Cas' messy hair tickles his cheek and he leans in, resting his head on Cas'. They sit quietly as their breath slowly synchronizes.  
  
"Dean," Cas whispers, his voice low and husky.  
  
"Hmm?" Dean pulls his head back to look down at his friend. He gets distracted for a moment, watching his dark eyelashes swipe through the air as Cas blinks. Dean unconsciously licks his lips and sees Cas follow the movement of his tongue. Slowly his eyes drag back up and Dean is startled to find that Cas' pupils are blown wide.  
  
"What's up?" Dean asks, his voice barely audible.  
  
Leaning back slightly, Cas covers his face with his good hand. "I find myself..." he begins.  
  
"What, Cas?" Dean really doesn’t know what to make of this situation. Maybe Cas doesn't feel comfortable with how touchy-feely Dean has been tonight or feels he got too worked up at the hospital. He looks closely at his friend’s face, attempting to read his expression.  
  
Still hiding behind his hand, Cas takes a deep breath and then all in one motion, he lowers his fingers and surges forward to press his lips against Dean's. Dean is too surprised to react at first, his brain short-circuiting on the realization that his best friend is kissing him. Becoming aware that Dean isn't returning the kiss, Cas retreats, biting his lip. "I'm sorry, I know we're just-" he begins.  
  
Finally, Dean's brain comes back online and he grasps the back of Cas' neck and pulls him in again, sucking lightly on Cas' bottom lip where it's pink from being bitten. A hitching breath escapes through Cas’ nose, then he's grabbing the front of Dean’s shirt and pressing himself close. He traces his tongue along the Dean’s top lip as Dean threads his fingers through Cas’ hair.  
  
They explore each other's mouths, slow and sensuous; Dean isn't sure if Cas has ever been kissed before, so he puts all of his skills to use and is gratified when he hears Cas’ quiet moan. Dean leans back, keeping their mouths locked together as he drags Cas to lay on top of him, and his hand brushes Cas' stubbled cheek. That sensation is so different from any of Dean's previous experience that he's jolted out of the moment and pushes lightly against Cas’ chest.  
  
 _I’m kissing a guy_ , Dean’s brain helpfully informs him. _How did that happen?_  
  
Dean opens his eyes to find Cas looking at him with a confused frown, clearly concerned about the fact that Dean stopped when the kiss was just getting good.  
  
“I’m pretty worn out, man,” Dean attempts to deflect Cas’ scrutiny and isn’t at all sure that it works.  
  
“Yes, I find myself quite exhausted as well,” Cas says after a moment.  
  
A wave of affection hits Dean when he hears Cas’ familiar formal tone and without thinking, he leans in and pecks a quick kiss to Cas’ lips, then the tip of his nose. “Goodnight,” Dean whispers.  
  
“Sleep well, Dean,” Cas answers and slips off the bed, padding across the floor silently on his bare feet. He turns to look at Dean one more time as he opens the door and then he’s gone, headed downstairs to sleep on the couch.  
  
Turning off the light, Dean lies back in bed and figures he’ll be awake for hours puzzling over this new experience, but he’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.


	4. The Time That I've Taken I Pray is Not Wasted

Just about the time the shadows call  
I undress my mind and dare you to follow  
Paint a portrait of my mystery  
Only close my eyes and you are here with me  
  
A nameless face to think I see  
To sit and watch the waves with me till they're gone  
A heart I'd swear I'd recognize is made out of  
My own devices.... Could I be wrong?  
 _(One Sweet Love)_

  
 _April 2002_  
  
On Friday, Dean, Cas and Charlie meet up in the Student Union building for a late lunch. The place is less crowded in the middle of the afternoon than during the lunch rush, and Dean prefers that in general. That way, he is less likely to run into his teammates and be forced into a conversation about practice, the upcoming games, or worse, the latest party he hadn't gone to. College parties had lost their luster when he realized they were just like high school parties, and besides, he had Sammy to take care of, as well a job to keep. He couldn't afford to be goofing off and getting drunk every weekend.  
  
Charlie and Cas are deep in a conversation about his character for Dungeons and Dragons, and Cas scribbles notes in the black notebook he always has tucked in his bookbag. Allowing his attention to wander, Dean thinks about three nights ago when everything changed. He knows that he and Cas are friends - best friends - and he really doesn’t want to ruin that, but the memory of Cas’ lips on his makes him feel like he’s a completely different person. The kind of person who enjoys kissing a guy and who is maybe thinking about doing something more with said guy. How would it feel, for example, to be pressed up against his friend, feeling a hard, muscular body instead of a soft, feminine one? The moment when he touched Cas’ face, feeling the stubble scratching against his hand, when the world came to a crashing halt plays over and over in his mind. He’d never expected to feel that sort of sensation, yet he finds that he’d like to feel it again. He’d like to kiss that rough skin, as well as along his friend’s neck, his arms, his stomach… and lower. What would it be like to touch another man’s dick? To use the techniques he uses on himself to get off with another person, with the same goal in mind?  
  
Suddenly, he feels much too exposed, sitting here next to his best-friend-maybe-more and he’s sure everyone around knows what he’s thinking about. He tries to think logically: if anyone saw them sitting together, they would just assume they’re two friends eating lunch together. And they would totally be right. So why does Dean feel like he needs to keep an eye out for someone he knows, anyone who will give him a hard time about sitting with his close friend who just happens to be a guy? Of course, that’s precisely when he catches Brady’s eye, the captain of the baseball team and who just happens to be one of the most popular guys in their class. Brady sits down next to Dean and immediately launches into a discussion about the strategy for their next practice and Dean can feel his ears burning.  
  
Finally he gets a word in and introduces Brady to Cas and Charlie. There’s a weird moment where Brady just looks at Cas and then smiles, this strange soft smile Dean’s never seen on his face before. Brady turns completely around and starts asking Cas questions about his major and where he grew up and “oh my god, what happened to your hand?” and it slowly dawns on Dean that Brady is _flirting_. He feels as though there's something squeezing his chest, making it hard to breathe.  
  
"Hey Cas, don't you have class in, like, 10 minutes?" He spits out the first thing that comes to mind.  
  
"Oh yes, thank you, Dean. It was nice meeting you, Brady," Cas says as he picks up his bag and waves goodbye to everyone.  
  
Brady hangs around for another few minutes, trying to engage Dean in conversation again, but Dean gives him one-word answers and before long the guy shuffles off. When Dean quits staring at Brady's retreating back and shifts his attention to Charlie, he finds a suspicious expression on her face. He raises his eyebrows in response, trying to look innocent.  
  
"Come watch me play Ms. Pacman," she says after a moment, apropos of nothing.  
  
"OK..." He responds, dragging out the 'k'. He follows her to the back corner of the room, where a group of arcade games are arranged. She drops a quarter in and fires up the game.  
  
"What was that all about?" Charlie asks, voice pitched low so she can’t be heard above the sounds of the Ms. Pacman eating pellets.  
  
"What do you mean?" Dean looks around, appreciating Charlie's suggestion, as there's no way for someone to eavesdrop on their conversation.  
  
"Dude, come on," she chides. "You were glaring at Brady like he was trying to steal your boyfriend. I totally knew he's into guys, by the way."  
  
"Cas?"  
  
"Brady!" She pauses for a moment to finish the level and then grins. "Cas, on the other hand - he's more fluid. I’d say he's pansexual... maybe demisexual."  
  
“He told you that?” Dean makes a mental note to look up “pansexual” and "demisexual".  
  
Charlie shakes her head as she starts playing again, moving the joystick deftly. “We’ve talked a bit. I think you should ask him how he identifies.”  
  
After a moment of hesitation, he blurts, "Cas kissed me the other day."  
  
Charlie spins to face him, losing a life to a ghost in the process. "No way! Was it a good kiss? Did you kiss him back? What did he say?"  
  
Holding his hands up to stem the flow of questions, he rolls his eyes. "Yes and yes. We really haven't talked about it."  
  
"Because... you don't really know how you feel about it," she says slowly as the answer dawns on her. “Are you freaking out because he’s your best friend or because he’s a guy?”  
  
He hesitates and tries to decide which issue is the biggest, while Charlie turns back to her game. If he doesn’t handle this situation well, he stands to lose one of his few close friends, just as they were getting to know each other. On the other hand, if he doesn’t mess up and chooses to acknowledge this attraction he feels for Cas, he’s going to have to examine his entire identity. He’s not afraid to admit (to himself) that that thought scares the hell out of him. And then he might mess up and lose his friend anyway.  
  
After a minute or so, he leans in and tells Charlie quietly, “A bit of both, I guess.”  
  
She nods sagely, because she knows Dean very well and is probably well aware of all the doubts and arguments floating around in his head at this very moment. “I’ve known that I’m a lesbian for a long time, Dean, and I never had a big gay identity crisis, so I can’t help you there. But remember that even if you are attracted to Cas and want to have lots of hot, dirty sex with the guy, you’re still the same person you always were, OK?”  
  
He nods, not knowing what to say, and she pulls him into a hug. “Now get out of my way, I need to kick some ghosty ass,” she says as she pushes him to the side and proceeds to do just that, hitting a power pellet and chasing down the ghosts.  
  
Talking to Charlie made him feel a lot better, but Dean is still confused and decides that he definitely needs to talk to Cas about all this. As soon as he gets back home, he fires off an email inviting his friend to come by and watch movies sometime that weekend.  
  
When Cas walks in the front door on Saturday night, Sam's in the kitchen cutting up vegetables for a snack (honestly, who taught that kid to eat rabbit food?), so Dean pulls Cas in by the lapel of his coat and kisses him lightly. Cas' eyes light up and he greets him with a whispered "Hello, Dean."  
  
"Hey, man," Dean says back and leads Cas into the living room.  
  
"What are you guys watching?" Sam asks from the kitchen, loading up his arms with his snacks.  
  
"I don't know, maybe Star Trek or something," Dean answers with a shrug.  
  
"Oh my god, do you ever watch anything else?" Sam replies, exasperated. "I'll be upstairs."  
  
In reality, Dean isn't sure what they'll watch but he knew that answer would irritate Sam and give him some time alone with Cas. He smiles deviously as his brother stomps up the stairs and slams his door. He tries to remember if he was always that loud when he was Sam's age. It seems like there's something in the rule book for teenagers that says one must sound like a herd of elephants everywhere one goes.  
  
"I was just joking; we can watch whatever you want, Cas," Dean explains as he sinks into the couch, looking through a pile of DVDs stacked there. "Die Hard?" He holds up the case of the first movie; Cas nods and takes the disc, getting everything set up. When he comes back, he sits at the other end of the couch, which is much too far away in Dean's opinion.  
  
Dean shifts across the space between them, leaning against Cas from shoulder to hip. He turns his head to look at Dean, an uncertain smile gracing his lips. "You were too far away," Dean explains and revels in Cas' quiet laugh.  
  
Watching Cas watch the movie, Dean decides he can’t talk about the night they kissed, after all. If he's entirely honest with himself, he knows that he would never be able to come out and say the things that are on his mind. 'So I realized I'm into dudes while I was kissing you' or 'are we boyfriends now?' were never phrases that he could bring himself to utter. Those sorts of things are way too close to baring his soul and he is _so far_ from comfortable with that.  
  
Instead of talking, Dean tilts his head ever so slightly and leans in to press a kiss to the side of Cas' neck. The resulting gasp he hears is music to his ears and he continues, moving up until he can pull the lobe of Cas' ear between his teeth. This draws out a low, guttural groan and Cas starts breathing faster, little hitching breaths through his nose as he bites his bottom lip.  
  
"Dean," he moans, as Dean licks a delicate trail along the shell of Cas' ear. When Dean doesn't answer, Cas says his name again, a little more insistent this time.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"What are you... doing?" His question gets interrupted as Dean shifts lower again and nibbles on the curve where Cas' shoulder meets his neck.  
  
"I think its pretty obvious, don’t you?" Dean can't hide the breathy quality of his own voice; he's definitely affected by this, too.  
  
"Your brother could come down and see... Mmmm..." Cas throws his head back against the couch when one of Dean's hands slides along his thigh.  
  
"We'd hear him coming from a mile off. That kid makes enough noise for five people."  
  
With an exasperated noise, Cas pulls away from Dean, reaching for a blanket that's draped over the back of the chair next to them. He arranges it over his lap, and after pausing for a moment, extends it to cover Dean as well.  
  
"Good idea,” Dean says, impressed that Cas has enough mental capacity left to think of that. Taking advantage of the camouflage, he moves his hand farther up until it's almost touching Cas' groin. He feels his friend tense and it hits him what he's about to do. "Is this OK?" he asks, so faintly that Cas wouldn't have heard if he hadn't said it right into his ear.  
  
After a moment of hesitation which has Dean holding his breath, Cas nods and places his own hand on Dean's leg. The resulting sigh of relief Dean exhales against the skin of Cas' neck makes him shiver and Dean grins again, returning his attention to Cas' ear while tracing his fingers lightly against his thigh.  
  
Cas takes the initiative this time and brings his hand to cup Dean's erection through his pants, and turns to capture his lips in a kiss just in time to catch the loud moan from Dean's throat. He squeezes gently, and when he decides Dean has the volume of his voice under control, Cas takes his turn at licking his way up Dean's neck to nibble on an earlobe.  
  
"Fuck," Dean murmurs, and remembers where his own hand is, wrapping his fingers around Cas' dick as well as he can with layers of clothes in the way. He slides his hand up and down, feeling the contours and marveling at the fact that he's touching another man this way. Feeling Cas increase the pressure of his touch, Dean reaches down and unbuttons his jeans, a not-so-subtle hint that causes Cas to abandon his attack on Dean's neck to look down in surprise, even though the blanket is in the way.  
  
He raises his head again to meet Dean's gaze, and for a breathless moment they're still, toeing the line they're about to fall over. Cas' eyes flick down to Dean's kiss-swollen lips and they're back, kissing like there's no tomorrow. With hardly any hesitation, Cas unzips Dean's fly and slips his hand in, quickly finding the gap in his boxers to touch Dean's skin. Cas' fingers wrap around his dick and give him one long stroke.  
  
Realizing he's been still as a statue, Dean hastens to level the field and pops Cas' button and slides the zipper down on his pants. Dismayed to discover he won't have easy access since Cas is wearing briefs, Dean uses his other hand to ease the elastic away from his body and then, at last, his hand brushes the tip of Cas' cock. The wetness from the precome gathering in the slit along Dean's palm brings him back to reality and he lets the blanket fall away slightly, sneaking a look down at their laps.  
  
The sight of their hands moving in tandem combined with the sensation of Cas' firm strokes is all too much suddenly, bringing him perilously close to the edge. He lowers his head to rest on Cas' shoulder, slowing the hand pinned inside Cas' pants. He feels, rather than hears, Cas chuckle, and Cas matches the pace of his strokes to Dean's. Biting gently at Cas’ neck, Dean suddenly speeds up again, loosely fisting Cas’ dick and causing him to gasp and arch his back.  
  
“I’m going to… oh my God, Dean!” Cas slaps his free hand over his mouth as his head falls back and he comes, moaning behind his palm. The sight of Cas spilling over Dean’s hand, as well as the way his grip tightens on Dean’s dick, thumb against the slit, makes the orgasm building like a wave inside of him crash over and he’s gone. He muffles his groan against Cas’ neck, shuddering as he starts to relax.  
  
“Holy shit,” is the first response that comes to Dean’s mind. His body feels pleasantly exhausted and his mind is fuzzy.  
  
Cas laughs as he kisses Dean’s forehead and complains half-heartedly, "That was a dirty trick you pulled."  
  
They carefully extract their hands from the other’s pants and Dean watches as Cas raises an eyebrow at the mess dripping down his fingers. Dean’s face falls slack as Cas brings his hand to his mouth and runs his tongue experimentally through Dean’s come and an entirely unexpected bolt of arousal courses through him. Jumping to his feet and backing away towards the kitchen, Dean mumbles something about getting a towel to clean them up with.  
  
As he’s running water over some paper towels, he hears Sam’s door open upstairs and the requisite stomping as he tramps down the stairs. Dean’s stomach drops to his feet as he hastily cleans himself up and zips his pants, hoping Cas was able to cover himself quickly enough.  
  
Sam looks at Dean strangely as he rushes into the living room, then asks, “Did Cas convince you to watch something other than Star Trek?”  
  
It takes a second for Dean to process his question and Cas answers for him. “Yes, Sam. We didn’t think to inform you. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Oh don’t worry about it; I’m pretty swamped with homework. Just came to get something to drink.” With another sideways glance at Dean, Sam lopes into the kitchen.  
  
“That was a close call,” Dean whispers to Cas as he leans in and hands him the paper towel Dean had hidden in his pocket. Cas nods and thanks him enthusiastically as he cleans up under the blanket.  
  
“I think I’m going to go,” Cas says once everything is back in order.  
  
After looking toward the kitchen quickly, Dean pulls Cas into a kiss, teasing him with his tongue. They pull apart and grin at each other, then Cas stands and puts his coat on. He waves goodbye to Sam when he reappears from the kitchen and is out the door faster than Dean can blink.  
  
“He left kind of fast,” Sam comments, sitting down on the couch next to his brother.  
  
Snapping himself out of his daze, Dean looks away from the door. “Yeah, it’s all your fault. You mentioned homework and he freaked out about all the work he has to do.”  
  
Sam makes a face, then his expression softens. “You know, it’s OK if you like Cas.”  
  
Dean feels his heart start to pound. Had Sam seen them kissing somehow? “What?”  
  
“If you want to date him - I’m OK with it and I’m sure Bobby would be, too.”  
  
Dean falls back on his main defense: denial. “Why would you even say that?”  
  
“Dean, I’ve seen how you look at him. And you gave him your scarf, dude.”  
  
So much for no one noticing that. “Well um, OK. I’ll keep that in mind, I guess,” Dean says, looking down at his lap.  
  
Sam huffs a laugh and leaves Dean to his thoughts. Yeah, maybe he does like Cas. And he thinks he can live with that.


	5. Leave Unsaid Unspoken

I thought I was ready to bleed  
That we'd move from the shadows on the wall  
And stand in the center of it all  
 _(Between the Lines)_

  
 _July 2002_  
  
The rest of the school year passes in a blur. Both Dean and Cas make it through the remaining cooking classes without further incident and even though he’s only slightly more comfortable in the kitchen, Cas tells Dean he doesn’t regret taking the class one bit. Dean doesn’t quite know what to do with the affectionate look Cas gives him at that point, so he pulls Cas into a kiss that leaves them both breathless.  
  
Shifting his schedule from attending classes a few hours a day to working full time at the garage again takes some getting used to, but once Dean adjusts to getting up at 6 in the morning he feels like this is what he’s meant to do. Spending all day with his hands deep in the engine of some classic car and bringing it back to full working order is all he’s ever dreamed of. And sure, working a couple nights a week at the Roadhouse on top of that tends to leave him exhausted, but one look at his steadily growing bank account makes it all worth it.  
  
Even though Cas doesn’t find a summer job, quite often he’s still busy working on research for his senior project the following year as well as laying a framework for his thesis for his master’s degree. The amount of writing Cas is planning to do in the next eight to ten years makes Dean shudder, but Cas is happy as can be at the library or buried in books at home. They still make time to see each other and Dean feels like everything is finally going his way.  
  
A heat wave sweeps through in mid-July and the whole town seems to be in a torpor; everyone's fighting with overworked air conditioning units and lazing around in neighborhood swimming pools. Cas’ roommate leaves with his family on a vacation to Victoria, BC to escape the oppressive heat, and when Dean isn’t working and Cas isn’t studying, they take full advantage of the privacy of Cas’ apartment.  
  
On one such afternoon, they’re sharing a six pack of cold beer and lying in their underwear on Cas’ bed. There’s two fans and the window air conditioner all running at top speed and the temperature in the room is just bearable as long as they don't move too much. A drop of sweat trails its way down Dean’s bare chest and he turns his head just in time to find Cas watching that drop as it makes its way down the side of Dean’s ribcage. A silly grin starts to sneak onto Dean’s face until Cas looks up and Dean sees Cas' dark, almost predatory expression. He holds perfectly still as Cas rises to his hands and knees over him, pinning him to the bed.  
  
“Cas?” Dean’s voice is strangely tentative and he shifts his hips idly. His friend just smiles down at him, a quick lift of his lips, and then he ducks his head, finding another bead of sweat on Dean’s collarbone and licking it up. Dean inhales a sharp breath, but doesn’t get a chance to recover before Cas runs the tip of his tongue down Dean’s collarbone and along his sternum.  
  
“Jesus Christ…” Dean whispers.  
  
“Jesus doesn’t have anything to do with this, Dean,” Cas says sternly. Dean isn’t entirely sure if his friend is teasing or not.  
  
“Yeah, whatever you sa-ahhh!” Dean shouts as Cas’ tongue flattens over one of his nipples. All he can do after that is choke back his moans and make some effort to keep Jesus out of it. This is new territory for the two of them; before today their physical explorations had all occurred while they were each still partially clothed, under blankets and in the dark. Dean feels exposed now, his body on display in the sunlight streaming through Cas’ window. There’s a red hue cast over the room as the sun sets and he has a fleeting moment to be thankful that it will finally cool down somewhat.  
   
Dean’s skin prickles with heat, the air in the room stifling even as night descends over them. Cas chases sweat trails down his ribs and along his hipbone and then Cas’ hands are on the waistband of Dean’s boxers. He pauses and looks up at Dean, the question plain on his face. Swallowing thickly as he meets Cas’ eyes, Dean nods once. Cas looks entirely too serious as he peels Dean’s underwear down, sliding them along his legs and off, dropping them on the floor. Forcing himself to lie still as Cas’ eyes roam over his body, Dean feels a flush rise in his chest and up his neck that’s completely unrelated to the heat of the room.  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Cas murmurs and focuses his eyes on Dean’s dick. Cas licks his lips and inhales sharply through his nose.  
  
“Come on, man, you can’t just say things like that,” Dean protests, covering his eyes with his forearm.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Cas bends down again and licks a long line up Dean’s left leg from knee to hip. Whining as Cas skirts around the place Dean most wants that tongue, he squirms, then laughs when Cas licks his belly button, teasing lightly along Dean’s skin. Cas grins up at him before he shifts and wraps his lips around the head of Dean’s dick.  
  
“Fuck,” Dean moans. It’s been a really long time since Dean last got a blowjob - hidden away in a bedroom at some party freshman year - and he is suddenly very aware of what he’d been missing.  
  
Cas bobs his head a few times, moving lower and lower until he sinks all the way down, the head of Dean’s dick hitting the back of his throat. Pulling off quickly to cough, his teeth scrape slightly on the crown and Dean hisses, curling his legs up slightly. Eyes watering, Cas apologizes repeatedly, his voice rough as he tries to catch his breath.  
  
Trying to keep a straight face - between the memory of teeth against his sensitive skin and Cas' distraught expression, he's not sure whether to cringe or laugh - he reaches out for Cas and pulls him in for a quick kiss. "It's OK," Dean assures him. "You don't have to do that."  
  
"I want to," Cas insists.  
  
Dean takes a moment to be sure that Cas is being sincere, then lies back again, giving Cas some advice as he settles in. "Just take it slow. It's all right to start off with a tease and work up to deep-throating."  
  
With a quiet laugh, Cas lays a line of kisses down Dean's chest until his face is level with Dean's dick again. This time he wraps his hand around the shaft and traces his tongue around the head, dipping into the slit.  
  
"Oh yeah, just like that," Dean encourages Cas, twisting his hands into the sheets. When he feels his toes start to curl, he slides a hand through Cas' disheveled hair causing him to look up and slide his mouth off Dean. Brushing his thumb along Cas' spit-slick lip, Dean feels his heart flutter at the open expression on his friend's face. He can easily read the trust and affection Cas feels for him in his dark blue eyes and Cas presses a kiss against Dean's thumb before sliding up his body.  
  
"Was that OK?" Cas whispers in Dean's ear, eliciting a shiver from him.  
  
Dean nods, feeling his stubble rasp against Cas'. "Really great. Didn't want to come yet. You wanna get naked too?"  
  
As if just now realizing he's still wearing boxers, Cas looks down and shimmies out of the constricting fabric. The motion brings Dean's dick into direct contact with Cas' and they both gasp at the sensation of velvety skin on skin.  
  
Cas gives an experimental thrust of his hips, their sweat helping their erections slide smoothly against each other. Taking advantage while Cas is distracted, Dean wraps his arms tight around his torso and rolls them both over. Cas looks up at him with wide eyes and Dean simply grins, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss. Dean feels the arousal spike under his skin and starts rocking his hips, finding just the right angle. They grind together and the sound of their labored breaths fills the room. When one enthusiastic thrust drives the head of Dean's dick against the underside of Cas' balls, Cas makes a surprised noise at the sudden pressure on his perineum and arches his back to keep Dean in that spot.  
  
"Feels good huh?" Dean mutters against Cas' ear before biting lightly on his earlobe. Cas can’t do anything more than nod. "Can I fuck you?" Dean asks abruptly, almost without thinking.  
  
“Um… I’ve never…” Cas whispers.  
  
“I haven’t either - not with a guy,” Dean admits. “But I want to try with you. If you want to?”  
  
Taking a long moment to consider, Cas chews the inside of his lip. Dean is just about to reassure him that they can simply continue as they were before when Cas makes his decision. “Yes,” he answers decisively.  
  
“Awesome,” Dean breathes. “So I guess we’ll need some lube, if you have any?”  
  
“And a condom,” Cas reminds him. “I have some lube, but no condoms. I've never had a use for them.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure I have one; let me check.”  
  
Peeling his sweaty body away from Cas’ with a slick noise, Dean sits on the edge of the bed and reaches for his jeans. He’s pretty sure he has a condom in his wallet, but he can’t remember if it’s new enough that it won’t be past its expiration date. He opens his wallet and pulls out the package… it hasn’t expired. _Thank god_. He holds it up triumphantly and Cas smiles broadly, the corners of his eyes crinkling.  
  
Dean takes the bottle of lube from Cas’ outstretched hand and sets it on the bed as he lays a gentle hand on Cas’ chest, pushing him onto his back again. Since the first time he and Cas had traded handjobs, Dean had slowly begun expanding his porn collection to include the gay variety. He figured that one day they’d get to this point and he wanted to be prepared; he considered it necessary research. As far as he could tell, sex with a guy was pretty straightforward and not all that different from having sex with a woman.  
  
With slightly shaky hands, Dean opens the condom package and slides it on, then spreads a layer of lube on himself. Cas is looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, idly stroking his own dick. They grin at each other, and Dean crawls up Cas’ body once again, bracing himself on his elbows. He presses an open-mouthed kiss on Cas’ neck, sucking lightly, causing Cas to squirm. With a quiet laugh, Dean leans on one arm and guides his erection between Cas’ legs once more. As soon as he lines up with Cas’ hole, he presses forward slowly, feeling the head of his dick breach the ring of muscle.  
  
The fact that Cas is _so tight_ overwhelms Dean’s brain for a moment and at first he doesn’t notice the short, pained gasps coming from the man underneath him. He hasn’t slid more than an inch inside Cas’ body, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to be able to go much farther. He focuses on Cas’ face and his expression is not one of pleasure but of discomfort. He pulls back, kneeling between Cas’ knees.  
  
“This really isn’t working,” Dean observes dryly.  
  
“No,” Cas replies. “It really isn’t. Maybe we can help the process a bit...” he muses, lifting himself up onto his elbows.  
  
“What? How do you mean?” Dean’s mind blanks. He watches Cas trail his hand down, under his balls, and slip one finger inside his hole. “Oh my god, that’s hot,” Dean groans.  
  
With a smirk, Cas slides that finger in and out of his body a few times, then reaches for the lube and squirts some on his hand. This time he uses two fingers, biting his lip as he does so. He twists his wrist, adding a third finger, moaning and causing the blood to pound in Dean's ears.  
  
“I’m ready,” Cas says in that low, gravelly voice as he lays back once more.  
  
“Damn,” Dean says as he leans over Cas. He takes a second to slide a pillow under Cas' ass, then lines himself up again. This time he’s able to push into Cas’ body with ease and he painstakingly eases his hips forward until he sinks completely inside. He buries his face against Cas’ shoulder, feeling his friend shake underneath him. “Are you OK?”  
  
“Yes. It doesn’t hurt this time.”  
  
“Great,” Dean says sarcastically. “It’s supposed to feel good, though.”  
  
“Maybe if you moved. Slowly,” Cas suggests.  
  
Completely on board with that plan, Dean pulls back almost entirely, then with all the control he can muster, plunges back in. It feels amazing; Cas is so tight and hot. He’s never felt anything like it. Finding a careful rhythm, he can feel his orgasm, so long delayed, building from the base of his spine and speeds up marginally. Cas is fisting his own dick, thrashing his head back and forth, so Dean assumes it feels good for him as well.  
  
At last the pressure peaks and he thrusts one more time, hard enough to make Cas’ mouth fall open on a silent gasp. Dean comes, trying to hold himself up so he doesn’t fall on top of Cas as his hand flies over his erection. All at once the muscles in Cas’ body clamp down on him and he groans at the sensation on his softening dick. He watches as strands of white arch across his friend’s body and shudders as they both come down from their orgasms.  
  
Dean pulls out of Cas and falls gracelessly to his side, lying next to his friend as he catches his breath. Cas gestures at the condom and tells him to throw it away in the trash can beside the bed. Dean does so, grimacing at the sensation of drying sweat all over his body as he shifts.  
  
Cas gets ahold of his boxers and wipes his stomach without sitting up. They both stare up at the ceiling and Dean isn’t sure what he should say. He settles on, “That wasn't at all like what happens in porn."  
  
The comment startles a laugh out of Cas and he nods his agreement. "I imagine it was much more sweaty than porn, as well," he adds.  
  
As they lie side by side, Dean tries not to think too hard about the consequences of what they’ve just done. It hits him like a ton of bricks; this will change everything, including his and Cas’ relationship, his sense of who he is and the way he sees the world. Maybe he will start to refer to Cas as his _boyfriend_. He’s not sure if he’s ready for that, but it looks like they're going to have to try to figure it all out. Judging by the contemplative look on Cas' face, Dean imagines that he's thinking about the same things.  
  
Finally, Dean pulls himself from his thoughts and looks at the clock on the bedside table. It’s much later than he expected. “Shit,” he says. “I better get home and make dinner. Want to hang out again tomorrow night?” Maybe they can try this whole having sex thing again.  
  
“Oh, I can’t,” Cas answers, sitting up with a wince. “My parents are coming to town tomorrow. They’ll be visiting for a week.”  
  
From the things Cas has told him about his parents, Dean knows that they’re very conservative and sheltered him from a lot of things as he grew up. They probably wouldn’t be very happy to hear about Cas’ developing relationship with another guy.  
  
“Do you want me there when you tell them?” Dean offers, ready to support his friend in the face of family disapproval.  
  
Cas tilts his head, confused. “Tell them what?”  
  
“About us, dude.” Dean starts to suspect they aren't on the same page and in fact Cas was _not_ considering the new state of their relationship moments ago.  
  
“Why would I tell them about us?” Cas’ tone is simply curious as he casually begins to gather up his clothes from the floor. After dumping those clothes in the hamper, he pulls fresh things out of his dresser and slips a shirt over his head.  
  
Feeling his frustration rise, Dean grates out, ”I don’t know. Maybe because we’re kind of together?”  
  
“Are we?” Cas’ wide, bewildered eyes meet Dean’s and that breaks what little control Dean had over his emotions.  
  
“We just had sex for fuck’s sake. What did you think? That we’re just friends with benefits or fuck buddies or something?” Dean demands, attempting to keep his voice down.  
  
Cas smirks slightly as he steps into clean boxers and replies, “I think we’d need a bit more practice before we could say that…”  
  
“Hey, fuck you, man!” Dean stands and starts yanking on his own clothes. He can’t believe what he’s hearing - Cas thinks they were just messing around! Even if Dean were comfortable with being more than friends, it’s clear to him that Cas never intended for that to happen. He feels so stupid. All along, he’d been assuming Cas felt the same way he did. Dean had been nervous, maybe even afraid, but he was still excited to see what he and Cas could accomplish together.  
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Cas says placatingly, his expression turning serious, as if finally realizing the gravity of the situation.  
  
“Whatever,” Dean shoots back, throwing on his t-shirt. “I never expected us to walk around holding hands, exchange class rings and go to the prom, but I thought our relationship was important to you.”  
  
“It is!” Cas replies emphatically. “It means everything to me.” Cas reaches out to place his hand on Dean’s shoulder, but Dean wrenches away, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.  
  
“But clearly not enough to tell your parents?” It takes all of Dean’s self control to hold down the emotion that’s threatening to tear from his throat and he swallows forcefully a few times.  
  
Cas steps back, looking him straight in the eye. “Dean, that would require me to come out to my family,” he says, shaking his head. ”I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”  
  
“I don’t want to be your dirty little secret, Cas.” Not only did Cas want a casual relationship, he wanted to hide it from everyone. The situation just keeps getting worse and worse; Dean's not sure he can handle much more.  
  
“You know what my parents are like. I’ve told you,” Cas begs him to understand.  
  
“Were you ever planning on telling them you’re not straight?” Dean asks accusingly.  
  
Sitting down on the bed, Cas’ shoulders slump. He’s still only dressed in his boxers and a plain white undershirt. “Someday… I thought maybe once I was done with school and I wasn’t depending on their support anymore.”  
  
“You’re going to be in school _forever_ , man. And you think they would cut you off?” Dean can’t imagine having a family that would do something so narrow-minded, but then again, his own family is a bit unconventional at best.  
  
“I’m not sure,” Cas answers quietly, sounding dismayed. “I never really had a reason to think about this.”  
  
Something inside Dean feels like it’s breaking into a million pieces, but he covers it up with anger. “Well, maybe I’m not ready to be in this sort of relationship, either. I’m not even sure if I’m gay or bisexual or whatever-the-fuck.”  
  
Going from dismayed to alarmed, Cas stands up and takes one halting step towards Dean, running a hand through his hair. “So what does this mean? Can we still be friends?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Dean answers quickly, but then takes a deep breath. “You know what? No. I don’t think I can do that. Just… forget it. Forget us.”  
  
“Dean, please,” Cas says weakly.  
  
Stuffing his feet into his boots, Dean leaves them untied as he stomps his way out of the bedroom toward the apartment door. He can see Cas’ devastated expression out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t turn back, slamming the door behind him. He drives home in a daze, completely surprised when he finds himself parked in his driveway.  
  
He doesn’t reply to any of Cas’ increasingly distressed emails over the next few days and eventually they dwindle off to nothing. _Who does that asshole think he is, anyway?_ Dean tells himself he's better off without him.  
  
Maybe eventually he’ll believe it.


	6. Get Me Past the Ghost of You

‘Maybe’ is a vicious little word that can slay me  
Keep me when I'm hurting  
And make me hang from your hands  
 _(Gonna Get Over You)_  
  
  
 _January 2003_  
  
Dean feels a gust of heated air surround him as he pulls open the door to the Arts Building and he takes a deep breath to warm up his lungs after his mad dash across the snow-covered campus. He'd gotten held up at the garage and didn't want to skip taking a shower, so now he's late for his first class of the spring semester. Standing in the foyer, he looks around wildly as he realizes he has no idea where he's going; the syllabus he’d downloaded off the school website for Classic Films of the Twentieth Century had merely stated it was held "in the Theater Room" and the campus map clarified that said room was in the basement of the arts building. He had thought it would be obvious. _Surely there are stairs here somewhere,_ he thinks.  
  
At last he spots it: a bright orange piece of paper with block letters that reads "Theater Room" with an arrow helpfully pointing him in the right direction. The stairwell is right around the corner and he clatters down the steps, his wet shoes sliding slightly on the linoleum floor at the bottom. A set of doors down the hall is propped open and he takes his chances, hurrying towards them and opening one as quietly as he can. A table just inside holds a stack of printed syllabi as well as a movie list and he takes one of each, slipping into the back row of seats. The teacher, a short, dark-haired woman (Mrs. Mills according to the syllabus in his hand), gives him a stern look before continuing her class introduction. He smiles tersely and looks around the half-filled theater.  
  
Up near the front of the room, he sees it: a head of messy, spiky, nearly-black hair. _Cas_. Cas is in his class. _Fuck_. The other man shifts slightly and Dean can see he's wearing the scarf Dean gave him just about a year ago, when their lives were completely different. Something in his gut twists painfully. On rare occasions during the fall semester, Dean had caught sight of Cas crossing campus or sitting in a corner of the Student Union Building, but they'd never spoken and Dean doesn't intend to start now. He'll just be the first to leave today and Cas will never know he was even there; he can go to the registrar and drop the class right away, too. Content with his plan, he tries to focus on what the teacher is saying, but his mind wanders and he stares at the back of Cas' head while thinking about what had happened last summer.  
  
After breaking off his friendship with Cas (Dean refuses to think of it as a romantic relationship), he had thrown himself into his work. He took on more and more hours, both at the garage and the Roadhouse, until Bobby and Ellen got smart and compared his schedules at both jobs. They had staged an intervention, insisting he needed to keep his combined hours under 50 a week, as well as take a week long vacation at the end of the summer. He and Sam had gone camping and fishing, and Dean had to admit it was the perfect way to end a shitty summer. Of course, Sam asked if Cas wanted to tag along on their trip (Dean had managed to make excuses all through the rest of July and August for why Cas was never around anymore) and he finally had to come clean with his brother about the fight. Of course he didn't tell him everything, but made vague excuses that the two of them "weren't on the same page" and "didn't have that much in common after all". Sam had given Dean a sympathetic puppy-dog look and pulled him into a tight hug that he totally needed, even though he would never admit it.  
  
He snaps back to the present as Mrs. Mills wraps up her speech. Since there's not enough time left in class that day to start a film, she dismisses them early and in the stampede of excited students rushing to the door, he can't escape before Cas spots him. He sees the man's eyes widen and he runs a hand through his hair nervously. The familiar gesture kicks up butterflies in Dean's stomach; he attempts to squash them violently and keep himself composed. Dean waits near the back as Cas makes his way up the aisle and waves awkwardly as Cas steps into his row.  
  
"Hello, Dean," Cas greets him in that deep, gravelly voice. He looks much the same to Dean's eyes, although his hair might be a bit longer and his shoulders are slightly broader. He's also dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and Dean’s glad Cas has continued dressing casually for classes. His trenchcoat is draped over one arm and Dean laughs inwardly at the sight of the ugly thing.  
  
"Hey, Cas," Dean replies as casually as he can manage, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. "I didn't know you'd be in this class."  
  
"Yes, well, I needed a few more non-major credits before I graduate and the only classes that fit my schedule were this one and a stagecraft class. I thought, after my experiences in cooking class, that I'd better steer clear of the power tools." Cas blushes slightly and looks down at his feet.  
  
Dean can't help but chuckle; he really has missed his friend's dry sense of humor. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."  
  
"Also, I wanted to watch some of the films you and Sam were always talking about and get a better grasp on pop culture references," Cas says as he brings his head up to meet Dean's gaze again. "But if it bothers you that I'm here, I can transfer to the other class."  
  
"No," Dean immediately protests, leaning forward and reaching out as if to grasp Cas' arm, then mentally kicks himself for being so forceful. "No," he says again, quieter this time. "For the sake of the fingers you've got left, stay out of the theater department."  
  
They laugh at the shared joke and then stand awkwardly for a few moments. "Do you have somewhere to be?" Cas finally breaks the silence as he starts to pull on his coat. "Do you want to get some coffee or something?"  
  
"Uh, no, sorry," Dean again answers without a lot of forethought - it's hard to concentrate with those intense blue eyes staring him down. "I've gotta get going, Sammy's got a thing at school..."  
  
Cas nods like he had been expecting that answer. "Of course. Say hello to Sam for me. I'll see you next week, Dean." And with a quick wave, Cas is out the door and Dean feels like he got the wind knocked out of him. He looks around only to realize he's the last one in the room and he hurries out, grabbing his recently-purchased cell phone from his pocket and opening a new text to Charlie as he wanders back up the stairs.  
  
 **[Dean: Cas is in my film class]**  
  
He doesn't have to wait long for her answer; Charlie's pretty much fused to her cell phone - when she's not attempting to reprogram it, of course. He opens her message just as he steps back into the cold February air, flicking his jacket collar up with his free hand.  
  
 **[Charlie: Shit. I'll be at your place in 20.]**  
 **[Charlie: I'll bring candy.]**  
  
With a smirk, he texts her back.  
  
 **[Dean: Is Candy your new girlfriend?]**  
  
 **[Charlie: Very funny. Actually I thought she'd be perfect for you.]**  
  
By the time he pulls into the driveway, Charlie's car is parked along the street in front of his house. He goes inside, immediately getting a hug from his favorite redhead. Dean knows he can always count on her to be there when he's having a rough day - she had proven that beyond a doubt over the past summer. Being the intuitive person that she is, Charlie knew something was up mere hours after his fight with Cas, but she never pried. It had taken a whole week, plus a generous helping of Jack Daniels, before he finally blurted out the whole awful situation to her one evening. At first she'd encouraged him to answer Cas' emails and figure things out because they were meant to be together "like Captain Kirk and Spock". When he insisted that wasn't true, about him and Cas or Kirk and Spock, she just shook her head and sighed dramatically.  
  
As the summer came to a close and it became clear Dean wasn't planning to reconcile with Cas, Charlie had stood by him and helped keep him distracted. She'd encouraged him to register for the film class since it was something he loved and would likely be an easy A. Now, after they've settled on the couch and he's told her all about it, she feels bad that she got him into this mess. Plus, it looks like the tests and assignments for the class aren't going to be so easy after all.  
  
"There's three 15-page papers due over the semester!" Dean complains.  
  
"Can't you drop the class? Take something else?" She looks up at him from where her head rests on his lap, offering him a Red Vine.  
  
"I could; apparently there's a stagecraft class at the same time. But I don't really want to build sets all semester," Dean answers with a whine, taking the candy and tearing a piece off with his teeth. "I can't believe Cas asked me to get coffee with him."  
  
"Hmmm. I bet he just wants to talk. He's probably missed you as much as you miss him."  
  
"Do not," Dean mumbles, knowing full well he'd admitted on multiple occasions that he wants his friend back in his life.  
  
"Just think about giving him a chance next time," Charlie tells him sternly, which loses the intended effect due to the Red Vine hanging from the corner of her mouth.  
  
"I doubt he'll ask again," Dean reasons.  
  
"Well, maybe you should ask him to hang out,” she suggests. “You could help each other with your assignments.”  
  
“He’d probably just shoot me down like I did to him.”  
  
“Probably. Buck up, Winchester. You know it’s worth it if you get Cas back.” She smacks his cheek gently.  
  
“I guess,” Dean says quickly, then changes the subject. "Let's watch The Godfather!"  
  
Charlie groans and covers her face with her hands.  
  
"It's on my list!" Dean insists, pulling out the page of recommended movies for his class.  
  
"I'm going to need more candy," she grumbles.

* * *

  
  
Since most movies are longer than the standard 1 hour and 45 minute class, the film classes are held once a week on Tuesday for 2 and a half hours. The list of _recommended_ movies are actually _required_ to get a good grade on the final and it’s expected that you have time to watch them since they only meet once a week. Dean thanks his lucky stars that he's seen most of the movies already or he'd never have enough time with work and his other courses. As it is, he's definitely not looking forward to all the movie-watching and paper-writing he'll be doing in the next few months.  
  
They'll be viewing Casablanca for the second session of class which is one Dean hasn't seen before and he arrives early, finding a seat closer to the front this time. Cas passes right by him looking for place to sit and Dean catches his attention, tilting his head to invite him over. Leaving an empty chair between them, Cas gives him a small, nervous smile as he gets settled. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watches Cas unwind his scarf - not the one Dean gave him this time - and fidget with the fringed edge.  
  
“Have you seen this movie?” Dean asks quietly, turning to face Cas as if he hadn’t been surreptitiously watching him the whole time.  
  
"It's one of my favorite movies," Cas answers flatly without looking away from the movie screen.  
  
“Maybe we could get together sometime and talk about it,” Dean says, trying to keep from sounding too hopeful.  
  
Cas finally meets Dean's gaze and searches his face as if he could find all the answers there, clear as day. "Yeah, maybe," Cas says, his expression still giving nothing away.  
  
Well, Dean knew it wouldn’t be easy, especially considering his response to Cas’ invitation last week. At least Cas hadn’t said ‘no’ straight out, and Dean is content with that. He relaxes back in his seat, hands behind his head and is startled a minute later when someone sits right next to him on his other side. He looks over to find a young woman smiling at him, leaning into his personal space.  
  
"Hi," she says cheerily. She's pretty, with tan skin, dark hair and brown eyes. "I'm Lisa."  
  
"Hey," he answers, forcing a pleasant expression. “I’m Dean."  
  
"You're on the baseball team, right?" Lisa asks, flashing a bright smile.  
  
Rubbing the back of his neck, he shakes his head. "I was. Not this year." In the end, it had been an easy decision to quit the team. Playing on the team wasn't fun anymore and he doesn't play as well as he used to. He glances over his shoulder in Cas’ direction and sees that he’s frowning slightly, sitting rigidly in the cushioned seat.  
  
"Oh," Lisa seems disappointed, but shakes it off. "Have you seen this movie?"  
  
Chuckling at how perky Lisa is, he tells her he hasn’t. “It’s so romantic!” She gushes. At that moment, the lights dim and the film starts, and Dean discovers he really does like this style of movie. Before too long, however, he finds his gaze being drawn back to Cas, tracing the planes of his face and the long, sinuous curve of his body. By the time Rick utters the classic "here's looking at you, kid", Dean is aware he missed the entire thing and resolves to rent the movie over the weekend. Cas sighs when the movie is over, looking over at Dean and catching him staring.  
  
Dean smiles broadly and is about to ask Cas if he wants to get some coffee when he feels Lisa elbow him in the side. He turns to find her holding out a piece of paper between two fingers, smiling that sunny smile. “Call me sometime,” she says, and he takes the scrap, glancing down at the numbers written there as she waves and heads up the aisle.  
  
Shaking his head, he turns back to Cas, only to find that he’s gone. Dean stands quickly, looking towards the back and catches the smallest flutter of tan trenchcoat before it disappears out the door. For the second time in as many weeks, Dean is left standing by himself, watching Cas walk away. He's starting to feel like the universe is giving him a taste of his own medicine.  
  
With a sigh, he leaves the building and starts to walk to his car, but his feet take a last-minute detour towards the Student Union Building. He knows who he hopes to find and sure enough, Cas is sitting in the back corner of the cafe area, writing in his black notebook. Dean takes a moment to grab a cup of coffee then heads back, stopping a few feet from the table. Cas looks up and they lock gazes; the rest of the world falls away and he feels the weight of the last six months settle heavy on his shoulders.  
  
"Can I sit here?" Dean asks, hoping like hell that Cas will say ‘yes’.  
  
The other man looks back down at his notebook and marks the page with a fancy bookmark before closing it. "Of course, Dean," he answers at last.  
  
"Awesome," Dean says as he pulls a chair out. "I was hoping to catch you in class. That movie was nothing like I expected; I think I’ll need to watch it again to understand it completely, though.”  
  
Cas smiles brightly, and the sight makes Dean feel infinitely lighter. They talk about the movie they just watched, moving on to others like it that Cas has seen. Dean laments that he has no idea what to write for his first paper, so Cas shares his plans and helps Dean clarify his own. Effortlessly, they fall back into the rhythm of conversation that they always had and before they know it, an hour has passed.  
  
"I gotta head to the bar," Dean says regretfully, tossing his empty coffee cup into a trash can.  
  
"It was good to talk to you, Dean," Cas replies, his voice hushed like he hadn't meant to say it out loud.  
  
"You too, man. Really good." He stands, hating the thought of leaving this bubble of happiness any sooner than he has to. "You should come by the house sometime. Sam really misses you. Charlie, too."  
  
"I'd like to see them as well."  
  
"Anytime, OK?" Dean raps his knuckles against the table lightly. "We'll make a dent in that recommended movies list."  
  
Looking relieved, Cas nods. This time when Dean walks away, he glances back at Cas over his shoulder and smiles. Twice.

* * *

 

 _June 2003_  
  
Dean is there when Cas graduates summa cum laude and gets his bachelor's degree. Without any hesitation, Dean pulls his friend into a hug and holds him tight, feeling Cas grip the back of his shirt. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and smelling the woodsy scent of Cas’ shampoo. “Good job,” Dean whispers, directly into Cas’ ear.  
  
An older couple walks up beside them and Cas pulls back, but leaves one arm around Dean's waist. Dean curls his arm around his friend’s shoulders, keeping him close.  
  
"Dean, these are my parents," Cas introduces them, a thread of apprehension lacing his voice. "Mom, Dad, this is my best friend, Dean."  
  
Dean shakes Cas' mom's hand and she lets go quickly. "We've heard so much about you," she says, her voice slightly strained.  
  
Looking between the two, he notices that Cas' dad has his lips pressed together in a grim line and is focused on the way Dean is holding Cas flush against his side. Cas never mentioned that he came out to his parents, but it looks like he did - or it could be his parents simply have their suspicions. Dean turns sideways to face his friend, grinning broadly like he is completely unaware of the tension in the air.  
  
“We better go find Charlie and Sam before they wander off, dontcha think?” Dean asks, squeezing Cas’ shoulders gently. Cas smiles gratefully at him and tells his parents he’ll see them later, hardly waiting for their response before dragging Dean away.  
  
“Good to meet the folks,” Dean deadpans and he feels the anxiety slowly drain from his friend’s body as he laughs quietly. Seeing Sam towering over the crowd - he’d shot up like a weed over the past year - they head in that direction. Charlie squeals as soon as she sees Cas and launches herself at him, saying “way to level up!” as she hugs him enthusiastically.  
  
Sam, Bobby and Ellen all offer their heartfelt congratulations and Dean glances around at his little family, so thankful that they’re here to support Cas. They may not be your standard nuclear family, but that doesn’t matter in the end. Family doesn’t end in blood, after all, and he’s closer to Cas than anyone but Sam. So what if he once thought he and Cas could be more than friends? Dean tells himself he can do this; he'd rather have friendship than nothing at all. He can spend time with Cas and not dwell on the past, on the relationship they used to have, and focus on the future that is brighter because they face it together.


	7. Still I'm Searching for Something

All those words came undone  
And now I'm not the only one  
Facing the ghosts that decide  
If the fire inside still burns  
 _(Breathe Again)_  
  
  
 _February 2005_  
  
There's an itch building under Dean's skin.  
  
Now that the holidays and Dean's birthday have come and gone, the rest of the long, cold Kansas winter feels like it stretches out in front of him indefinitely.  
  
He’s been in one place for so long; the last time he took a roadtrip, just him and the Impala, was right after high school before he started working for Bobby. He’d driven north, up through Wyoming and Montana, and ended up in Glacier National Park. Bobby lent him his old SLR camera and Dean took pictures as he went. Those prints and negatives are most likely up in Bobby’s attic collecting dust, he thinks. He hadn't looked in a lot of the boxes up there when he moved out last fall; he really wasn't interested in a trip down memory lane.  
  
There have been times when Dean considered packing up his belongings and leaving town permanently - maybe settle somewhere on the East Coast - but he always dismissed that idea. His whole life is in Kansas: his family, his friends, his jobs. And Cas. Even after all this time he’s not sure where exactly Cas fits in, and maybe that’s part of the problem at the moment.  
  
Cas and Dean don’t spend as much time together these days; once Dean graduated from college last spring, he'd jumped right back into working more than full time again at the Roadhouse and Bobby’s garage. This year is the first time since they met that Cas doesn’t run into Dean around campus or have a chance to take a class with him. They try to find opportunities to watch movies together at Dean's new apartment, attend concerts or even go out dancing and they’ve mostly settled back into the close friendship they'd once had. It hadn’t all been smooth sailing, of course, and it took some work to heal the wounds caused by their argument so long ago, but he’s definitely happy that Cas is back in his life.  
  
“Fuck it,” he says out loud to his empty apartment. Picking up his phone, he calls Bobby and explains that he’s thinking about going to see Sam in California.  
  
“It’s about time, idjit,” is Bobby’s brusque response. “You obviously miss the kid, so just go. You’ve got more than enough paid vacation.”  
  
Dean really has no response to any of that, so he simply answers gruffly, “Thanks, Bobby.”  
  
“Don’t mention it. See you in a week,” Bobby says before hanging up.  
  
Shaking his head in amusement, Dean dials Ellen and has an (unsurprisingly) similar conversation with her. Just like that, he has the next week off and all that's left to do is pack.

* * *

  
  
The low, rolling hills of western Kansas transform into the low, rolling hills of eastern Colorado as Dean pulls away from the tiny town of Burlington after taking a quick break to stretch his legs. He cranks the volume as his Led Zeppelin tape starts to play and he realizes that this is just what he needed - a break from the mundane routine he’s settled into. There’s nothing wrong with working hard, of course, or being motivated to pay Bobby back for all the money he loaned Dean for school. He’s not sure how long he’ll be working at the garage or if he’ll ever use his engineering degree to look for something more exciting to do with the rest of his life, but for now he’ll just enjoy the feeling of the wind across his skin and the prospect of seeing his little brother.  
  
A fancy new DSLR camera - a birthday present from Bobby and Ellen - sits in its case in the passenger seat next to him. He’d insisted that he didn’t need something brand spanking new like that, and since when did he take good photographs anyway? Bobby had rolled his eyes and pulled Dean into his home office, pointing to a set of framed pictures on the wall. Dean never goes into that room - it’s stuffed to the gills with obscure books that only Bobby ever reads and the desk is piled high with paperwork - so he was completely stunned to see his photographs from Glacier National Park hanging in Bobby’s office.  
  
Dean still isn’t convinced that he has any artistic talent, but he promised the two of them that he would use the camera on his trip so he stops in Arches National Park as well as Las Vegas to photograph The Strip. Along the road there are plenty of amazing views, even in the winter: snowcapped mountains, dense forests and windswept prairies. He finds that instead of being irritated about stopping so much, he actually enjoys taking time to look at the sights around him.  
  
He arrives at Stanford University on a Friday afternoon, just over 48 hours after he left home, and drives directly to the dormitory Sam lives in. He climbs the four flights of stairs, camera case slung over one shoulder (he was hardly going to leave it in his car as incentive for someone to break into his car) and regrets not taking the elevator as he breathes heavily, stepping into the long, drab hallway. Coming to a stop in front of room 510, he hears a deep rumbling bass from behind the door and someone yelling about turning it down. As the volume dips just slightly, Dean raises his hand to knock. Before he gets a chance, the door swings open to reveal his brother.  
  
Sam looks completely stressed; his hair is disheveled and there are bags under his eyes. For a few long, drawn-out moments, the two brothers just stare at one another, speechless.  
  
"Surprise?" Dean finally manages to speak, glancing past Sam into the dorm room behind him.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Sam asks, his voice flat, and steps out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. Dean's heart sinks and he's just about to turn around and head back home when he's pulled into a tight hug. Shocked at Sam's reaction, he hardly has time to wrap his own arms around his brother before Sam pulls back. "I'm so glad to see you," Sam adds in a rush, rather unnecessarily at this point.  
  
Dean gives his brother a once-over and realizes he has to look _up_ to see his face; somehow the kid is still growing. "What they feeding you here, Sammy? Miracle-Gro?"  
  
Finally cracking a smile, Sam rolls his eyes and shoves at Dean's shoulder. "Please don't call me 'Sammy' around my roommates; they'll never let me hear the end of it."  
  
"Hmmm, we'll see," Dean hedges. "I needed to get outta town for awhile, so I thought I'd drive out here to see you. Do you have a lot going on?"  
  
"Oh, my god," Sam groans. "I have a twenty-page paper due in a week, two tests to study for and my roommate does not understand that not everyone wants to listen to techno music at ear-splitting volume 24 hours a day." His voice gets louder as he finishes talking until he's yelling at the closed door, even though there’s no way his roommate would hear him above the sound of the stereo.  
  
"I don't think _anyone_ except your roommate wants to," Dean says with a smirk.  
  
Sam snorts his agreement, running a hand through his messy hair, and asks, "How long are you planning on staying?"  
  
"Well, if you've got too much to do..."  
  
"No, Dean," Sam interrupts. "I want you here, honestly. It's Friday, so I can hang out for a bit before I get back to work."  
  
Letting out a relieved breath - he’d been prepared to leave and let Sam do his thing - Dean forms a plan in his head quickly and lays it out. “Tell you what. Let’s get some food and then I’ll find a place to stay for the weekend. You can use the relative quiet of the motel room to do homework; it’ll be better than listening to _that_.” He jerks his head toward the dorm room.  
  
“That sounds awesome,” Sam states. He looks at the bag at Dean’s hip, just now noticing that he’s carrying something. “Is that a camera?”  
  
"Yeah, I guess Bobby and Ellen thought I needed to take pictures on this trip. Like I’m artistic at all.” He waves a hand dismissively as he leads the way back to the stairwell.  
  
He hears Sam scoff behind him. “Whatever, dude, I’ve seen the framed photos in Bobby’s office at home.”  
  
“Since when do you go in there?” Dean can’t imagine Sam having any reason to anymore than he does himself.  
  
“I used to go in there all the time and look through Bobby’s books,” Sam answers in an exasperated tone, stepping forward to walk alongside Dean. “Some of us do this thing called _reading_.”  
  
Dean punches his brother playfully in the shoulder and they trade off hitting each other until they reach the parking lot.  
  
Sam directs them to a local diner, where Dean orders a huge cheeseburger and Sam gets a salad, which Dean proceeds to tease him about. He's just about to make another joke about how eating leafy greens is what’s causing Sam to grow uncontrollably when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Looking at the screen, he sees he has a text from Cas.  
  
 **Castiel: Have you arrived safely?**  
  
Rolling his eyes fondly, he types out a reply.  
  
 **Dean: yep, got here a bit ago**  
 **Dean: sam is super stressed. i'm going to stay for the weekend at least**  
  
 **Castiel: Tell Sam "hello" from me. Talk to you soon.**  
  
"Cas says 'hello'," Dean tells Sam, crooking his fingers to form air quotes.  
  
His brother laughs and asks, "Why didn't he come with you?"  
  
"You know Cas, he's always busy with school. Most of the time, he's completely buried in books or up to his eyeballs in red ink from editing his thesis." Dean takes a huge bite of the burger. It's excellent and he moans loudly, earning a glare from Sam.  
  
Slowly Sam's expression turns serious. "Whatever happened with you guys, anyway?" he asks quietly.  
  
Hesitating for a moment as he eats more of his dinner, Dean chooses to deflect slightly. "Nothing. We’re the same as we’ve always been."  
  
"Yeah, but... a couple years ago didn't you want... I don't know... to be more than friends?"  
  
Dean shifts uncomfortably and rubs the back of his neck, looking at the table. "Sam..." he protests.  
  
"Look, I may have been young and naive, but it was easy to see that you two had something," Sam forges on. "What happened?"  
  
Trying to convey the extent to which he does _not_ want to talk about this, Dean glares at his brother. Sam doesn’t relent, however, keeping his eyes locked on Dean’s. An epic staring contest ensues until, finally, Dean lets out a huge gust of breath. "We had a huge fight that summer before your senior year," Dean starts and Sam nods to encourage him to continue. He eats a few of his fries to give him more time to think. "We thought about being... together, but he kind of wanted to hide it and I was just freaked out because he was a guy, I guess."  
  
"And that was enough that you didn't talk to him for six months?" Sam replies, surprised.  
  
"I might have told him I didn't want to even be friends," Dean admits, watching his hand as he squishes one of his remaining fries between his fingers.  
  
He hears Sam grumble about "stubborn bastards" as he finishes his own meal. "I'm glad you finally figured things out, Dean," he says, at last.  
  
"Yeah, me too," Dean agrees.  
  
"Just, you know... don't be afraid to try again. You both obviously care about each other a lot."  
  
Dean is officially done talking about this, so he shrugs and gets up to pay their bill at the register, causing Sam to start an argument about how Dean doesn't need to pay for everything. Their conversation about Cas burrows its way into Dean's head, however, and he finds he can't quite let it go.  
  
The next morning, Dean returns to the motel room with breakfast from a coffee shop down the street just in time to see Sam wake up with a groan. He's still wearing his clothes from the day before since he passed out while trying to study and there was no way Dean was about to help him change into his PJs. Dean laughs at his brother's irritated expression, handing over the paper coffee cup without a word.  
  
Once they've both had their caffeine and Sam has taken a long shower, Dean suggests a walk around campus, claiming he'd like to look around and take pictures for Bobby and Ellen, but in reality he just wants Sam to get some fresh air. From the look of things, it was obvious he'd been shut in his dorm room for way too long. Sam agrees to show him the sights and they set off.  
  
Old buildings, statues and gardens get photographed and then they wander toward the sports fields. Enthusiastic cheers can be heard from behind a wooden structure that appears to be raised bleachers; Dean starts to head that way until Sam grabs his arm, stopping him midstep.  
  
"What the hell, Sam?" Dean demands, shaking off Sam's grip.  
  
Sam gives him a pleading look. "Let's not go in there."  
  
Of course, that makes Dean even more curious and he stubbornly walks through the gap in the bleachers. "Oh my god..." he breathes. "It's _Quidditch_." Two groups of students rush by, holding brooms between their legs, hollering at their teammates to pass the Quaffle or protect the hoops. Spotting an empty bench, Dean climbs up and sits, an ecstatic grin on his face as he braces his elbows on his knees. With a groan, Sam follows and slumps down beside Dean.  
  
"This is ridiculous," Sam protests.  
  
"Ridiculously _awesome_ , you mean." Dean follows the action of the game, watching one team score and he cheers with the crowd. "Charlie would love this."  
  
"So would Cas," his brother adds, an odd expression on his face. "You really should have brought him with you. He could use a break from school."  
  
The other team scores using a clever play and Dean pulls out his camera, snapping a few pictures to show Charlie. He'd thought about asking Cas to come along before he realized he needed some time to think about how they fit together these days. After he had told Sam the truth about their argument, it had become clear to Dean that he does want things to change. He cares about Cas just as much as he did back then, if not more, and is just as attracted to him. Dean had been attempting to trample those feelings down, rationalizing that obviously he's the only one who feels like that, but now he's starting to wonder. After all, Cas had started wearing that scarf Dean gave him again - maybe that means something. He decides that he really needs to know how Cas feels.  
  
"Maybe next time," Dean answers. "I'd hate to set him back on his paper."  
  
Sam's sitting up straight in his seat now, watching the game in apparent interest. He glances over at Dean quickly, then back out to the field. "He should really think about taking a few years off after he gets his Master's. I can't imagine getting so many degrees one after another with no time to breathe."  
  
"I've told him that; he insists he's fine." Dean doesn't think Sam has any room to talk since he's planning to go straight to law school, but he doesn't mention it. He's determined to keep an eye on both of them, anyhow, to make sure they take care of themselves. Personally, he's more than glad he's done with school himself.  
  
The highlight of the game is the appearance of the Golden Snitch, which is some dude dressed up in a yellow full-body spandex suit with a tennis ball in a sock pinned to his ass. Now he agrees with Sam; the sight of the guy running around the field with two Seekers chasing him is completely ridiculous. Of course, he can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard and had such a great time with his brother.  
  
Dean decides he'll head back home early the next day after spending the afternoon hanging out watching TV in the motel while Sam studies. Sam sleeps properly that night, telling Dean multiple times how glad he is that Dean came to see him. Dean offers to convince his roommate to keep his music down; with a laugh Sam refuses and promises he'll put his foot down and insist on some quiet time.  
  
With a final drawn-out hug, Dean says goodbye to his little brother again and takes off. He heads northeast for the drive back to Kansas, through Reno and Salt Lake City. He doesn't stop as much to take pictures, caught up in thoughts about Cas and feeling eager to be home. Halfway through Nevada, he decides he wants to make an effort to spend more time with Cas and sends his friend a text suggesting they hang out every Friday night. Cas' positive response is almost immediate.  
  
Late Tuesday evening, he pulls into his garage (that he pays extra for each month), shivering as he gets out. Musing about how much he'd love the mild weather in California, he climbs up to his second story apartment and is surprised to find his door unlocked. Keeping in mind that quite a few people have a key to his place, he tries to calm his racing heart as he opens the door quietly. He takes a deep, relieved breath when he sees Cas sitting on his couch, wrapped in a blanket and absorbed in a show playing on the TV. He looks up when he hears Dean and the soft smile on his face starts Dean's heart racing all over again.  
  
"Hey, man," Dean greets him casually, as if he hadn't been thinking about him the entire time he was gone. "Just couldn't wait to see me, huh?"  
  
"Um, I..." Cas trails off, clearing his throat and avoiding Dean's gaze.  
  
Dean gives Cas a sincere smile as he sits on the couch next to him. "What?" He coaxes Cas after a moment.  
  
"I missed you," Cas continues at last. "And I'm sorry I've been so busy we barely see each other." He looks up into Dean's eyes as he finishes speaking.  
  
Feeling butterflies kick up in his stomach at Cas' confession as well as his proximity, Dean knocks his knee against his friend's. "Hey, I've been just as busy. We'll make it work."  
  
Cas nods decisively and looks back at the TV. "Yes, I think we will."


	8. You Hold Me Without Touch

Something always brings me back to you  
It never takes too long  
No matter what I say or do  
I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone  
 _(Gravity)_  
  
  
 _June 2005_  
  
Sliding into a booth at the Roadhouse, Dean smiles at Dorothy across the table and watches as Charlie springs out of her seat to pull Cas into a tight hug. They’re out tonight to celebrate the fact that Cas presented his thesis and finished his Master’s Degree, and is now taking a few years off before starting his doctorate. During the last few months spent finishing his degree, Cas started to agree with Dean and Sam: he was wearing himself thin and he needed a break. They had had a few long late-night discussions about how Cas always expected to complete all his schooling at once and while it wasn’t due to direct pressure from his parents, he felt they would be disappointed in him if he took some time off. He’s been working on getting past being affected by how his parents react to his life choices, but he had still been nervous when he broke the news to them. They were as supportive as they were going to get and Cas finalized the withdrawal of his application for the doctoral program the week before he completed his Master's.  
  
Dean’s just glad he’ll be able to see his best friend more often. Taking their discussions to heart, he's even reduced his shifts at the bar to once a week. It feels like he has all the spare time in the world at this point, which is a new thing for Dean.  
  
"Does this count as winning the boss battle?" Charlie teases as they settle back into the booth, as usual using video games as a metaphor for life.  
  
"Hmmmm. Yes, that sounds about right. I'll wait a few years to take on the final boss, though," Cas answers, nodding a greeting to Dorothy and pressing close to Dean’s side. There’s not a lot of room at these tables, but there’s enough that they each could have a bit of personal space if they wanted it. Recently Dean has found that he doesn’t mind being physically close to his friend and they often end up sitting on the couch with their legs tangled together or one of them asleep with his head on the other’s shoulder. It’s comforting and it’s really damn nice, he thinks. He slings his arm across the back of the booth, draping it around Cas.  
  
Dorothy asks if Cas is relieved to be done with school and they all laugh when he drops his forehead to the table dramatically.  
  
"The past few months have been rough, haven't they?" Dean teases, bringing a hand down to ruffle Cas' hair. That's the understatement of the year, of course, considering there were weeks when Cas only managed to sleep a couple hours a night and drank coffee like it was water.  
  
"I'd rather not think about it anymore," Cas grumbles, lifting his head up and frowning at Dean as he attempts to rearrange his disheveled hair.  
  
He's distracted from watching Cas' graceful fingers running through his hair when Ellen appears at the table carrying a tray filled with the first round of their favorite beer. "Burgers all around?" she asks, knowing very well what the answer is. They all agree enthusiastically.  
  
“Bring us a round of shots, too,” Dean tells her before she turns to leave. “We’re celebrating tonight ‘cause Cas is done with school.”  
  
“Congratulations, kid,” Ellen says, patting Cas on the shoulder as he grins up at her. “Seems like just yesterday you were in my cooking class making a mess.”  
  
Cas covers his face with his hands and slumps sideways into Dean as the table erupts into laughter. Dean pulls him in tight and squeezes, seeing Ellen’s fond look before she heads back to the kitchen. His surrogate mother has been witness to more than one of Dean’s attempts to drown his sorrows in beer and she knows that for about a year, those sorrows were entirely due to the situation with Cas. She’s probably nearly as happy they’ve figured everything out as Dean is.  
  
An hour later, their bellies full with the best burgers in town and well on their way to being completely trashed, the group snags a pool table and attempts to play. In the midst of giggles and playful insults, they decided to split up into teams - the Rebel Alliance vs the Empire with Dean and Charlie on the Light side as Han Solo and Princess Leia.  
  
Dean’s lining up his first shot after the break and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cas stretching his arms over his head, causing his shirt to ride up. The sight of the man's sharp hipbones dipping under the waist of his jeans makes Dean miss his shot, the ball going wide of the pocket. He glares at Cas, who gives him a mock-sympathetic look.  
  
When it’s Cas’ turn, Dean meanders around the table and just as he’s about to shoot, Dean hipchecks him and he narrowly avoids falling over. A round of playful shoving ensues that ends with Charlie and Dorothy pulling them apart.  
  
“Playing dirty tonight, are we?” Charlie whispers into his ear, trying to look like she’s asking him for advice on her next shot.  
  
“He started it,” he replies as he points out the best angle to hit the cue ball, then looks up to see the lascivious expression on Cas’ face. Dean swallows thickly, starting to wonder if he is in fact in this over his head. Charlie looks at him sternly as she sinks her ball.  
  
The competition gets fierce, but the next few rounds are played as fairly as four drunk people can manage and Dean has just started to let his guard down as he’s about to take a shot at the 8-ball. He leans over the table, sighting down his cue and pulls his arm back. The moment he moves to tap the ball, Cas’ hand smacks his ass hard enough that he straightens with a yelp and Dean chases after Cas as he darts away. He pins Cas against a wall, tickling him mercilessly until he cries “mercy!”  
  
Looking towards the bar, he sees Ellen standing with hands on her hips and a stern expression on her face. Once more Dean grumbles, "he started it."  
  
Cas just laughs, the closest sound to a giggle the man will ever make.  
  
All the underhanded tactics in the world couldn’t win the game for Cas and Dorothy in the end and Charlie sinks the 8-ball on her next turn. The losing team concedes defeat and buys one last round before they all head out. The ladies leave first; Charlie flashes the “live long and prosper” hand sign, a sly smirk on her face, while Dorothy rolls her eyes affectionately and waves.  
  
Dean and Cas step out into the warm, dry summer night and make their way down the sidewalk. "You crashing on the couch?" Dean asks, rather unnecessarily since his friend _always_ stays over after they go out drinking.  
  
"Of course," Cas answers, slightly slurring his words as he tucks himself against Dean, wrapping an arm around his waist. Dean winds his arm around Cas' shoulders and they stumble the five blocks to Dean's apartment.  
  
A block from their destination, Dean turns to look at Cas and accuses, "Those were some real dirty tricks you pulled tonight, Novak."  
  
All it takes is a subtle quirk of an eyebrow and a twist of the lips and Cas suddenly looks downright wicked. "Was I too rough, Winchester?" Cas practically growls and slides his hand down to grab Dean's ass, then pats the cheek gently.  
  
"It was the other cheek." Dean means for it to sound teasing, but his voice is slightly breathy as he answers. Cas dutifully switches to the other side and slips his hand into the back pocket of Dean's jeans. Dean feels a flush rising up his neck and runs his free hand through his hair distractedly.  
  
They make it up to Dean's place without further groping and fall together in a heap on the couch. Dean ends up with his face tucked against Cas' neck and he noses behind his friend's ear, breathing in his familiar scent. He shudders when he feels Cas' breath puff out against against his neck.  
  
Suddenly, Cas' hands are on his shoulders and he presses Dean back into the couch. Dean watches wordlessly as Cas lifts himself up and swings his leg over, ending up square in Dean's lap. He must have a bemused expression on his face, since Cas huffs a quiet laugh before leaning down to run his tongue up the side of Dean's neck, then sucking gently on his earlobe. The slow roll of Cas' hips against his own pulls a moan from Dean's chest and Cas skims his hands down, landing on the fly of Dean's pants, then pops the button open.  
  
 _Holy shit._ Dean’s brain ceases to function as all his blood rushes south.  
  
Just as abruptly, Cas pulls back and Dean's about to growl, "what the hell, man?" when he realizes that his friend is trying his damnedest to get himself under control. Their eyes meet and Dean feels like those intense blue eyes are looking straight into his soul. Cas' voice is barely louder than a whisper when he asks, "Is this ok?"  
  
"Fuck, yes," is as eloquent an answer as Dean can manage, but Cas relaxes visibly, rolling his eyes fondly. Dean unbuttons Cas' pants, smirking at the adorable angel wing pattern on his boxers.  
  
The last thing Dean expects Cas to do at this point is slither off his lap onto the floor to kneel between Dean's legs - but that's exactly what Cas does. Dean's heart rate goes through the roof when Cas lowers one hand to unzip his own fly, eyelids drooping as he starts touching himself. Cas palms Dean's erection through his boxers with his free hand and Dean shimmies his jeans and underwear down to give him better access, tucking the elastic of his boxers under his balls. He groans and throws his head back when he feels Cas' warm hand wrap around the base of his cock and full-out yells when the head is enveloped in the wet heat of Cas' mouth.  
  
Already, Cas' technique is infinitely better than the last time they did this and Dean spares a moment to wonder where he learned it. Has he slept with someone else? Did some other guy show him what feels good? Dean curls forward, cupping Cas' face in his hands, and all thoughts fly out of his head as Cas looks up to meet his eyes and dips down to take as much of Dean's cock in his mouth as he can. The sight of Cas' lips wrapped around him and the feel of his tongue swirling lightly around the crown bring him dangerously close to coming and he inhales sharply. Cas takes the cue and backs off, sliding his mouth down the shaft and licking the underside of his balls where they rest against the waistband of his boxers.  
  
"Oh my god, Cas," Dean says, watching him suck one testicle into his mouth and then the other. "Fuck."  
  
There's a smug smile on Cas' face as he licks back up along Dean's cock and then he's sucking him down again, hollowing his cheeks to apply more suction. Feeling his orgasm starting to build again, Dean is vaguely aware that Cas is stroking his own dick faster and faster; all of a sudden, Cas' eyes flutter shut and he fucking _moans_ around Dean.  
  
"Did you just..." The realization that Cas just came feels like an electric shock down his spine and he has just enough brainpower to gasp, "Cas I'm gonna -" before his body goes rigid. Cas pulls off, stroking him through his release and he comes harder than he has in a long time, hips bucking into empty air.  
  
When the static clears from his head, he becomes aware that he’s got come all over his abdomen and shirt. At first, he’s disappointed that Cas pulled off before he could finish in Cas’ mouth, but he mentally kicks himself. That would be a bit more intimate than this situation calls for, wouldn't it?  
  
Dean looks down at his lap where Cas is slumped against his legs, head pillowed on one of his thighs. Dragging his gaze up to meet Dean's, Cas smiles dopily and sighs. He looks as sated as Dean feels.  
  
"Come up here, man." Dean beckons with both hands, holding them out to help Cas to his feet. Shifting his eyes away from Cas' open fly, he pulls his friend into his lap and tucks Cas' head under his chin. Cas' arms slide around his waist. "You've gotten a lot better at that," he says, hoping it doesn't come out sounding like he's jealous.  
  
He feels Cas duck his head slightly, and his answer is muffled against Dean's shirt. "Pornography is very educational."  
  
Nearly falling over as he guffaws, Dean reflects that he's probably still a bit drunk. Cas laughs with him, shaking in Dean’s arms.  
  
“Just remember that porn isn’t all that realistic,” Dean teases, remembering his own mistakes he made when he took porn at face value. He snuggles Cas against his chest, feeling like he's never been closer to his friend than at this moment. "It was awesome," he says at last, wanting to be sure that Cas knows the research was well worth it.  
  
He feels Cas' arms tighten around him before he hears his say, "Good."  
  
A handful of minutes later, Dean sighs. He can feel the come on his stomach starting to dry and he really should get up and get cleaned off. "I'm going to go get a towel or something," he says into Cas' hair. "You want a pair of clean boxers?"  
  
"Mmmhmm," is all Dean gets in response and he tips Cas onto his back, earning him a smack on the head as Cas flails his arms, trying to pull Dean down with him.  
  
"Chill out. I'll be right back," Dean grumbles, wincing at the disgusting feeling of his damp shirt on his skin.  
  
He cleans up quickly in his bedroom, then grabs another towel and boxers for Cas. When he walks back out to the couch, he finds Cas almost asleep, curled up on his side. The guy always gets sleepy (and horny, apparently) after he drinks.  
  
"Here you go," Dean says quietly, setting the items down on the floor. "Clean up before you go to sleep, OK?"  
  
"Thank you, Dean," Cas mumbles.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. We'll talk in the morning. Goodnight, Cas."  
  
"'Night."  


* * *

  
  
The morning dawns bright and clear, which of course means Dean has a splitting headache the moment he wakes up. With a groan, he drags himself to the bathroom, then out to the kitchen. He can see Cas sitting on the couch, the TV turned on low and tuned to some all-day news channel. As long as it's not Fox News, Dean's not going to complain.  
  
"Hey, man," Dean calls out, smiling to himself when Cas jumps. Dean grabs a glass and fills it with water, then moves to the living room to join his friend on the couch. Cas is wrapped in a blanket, obviously wearing only a t-shirt and boxers as his legs are bare, and leans against Dean's side as he sits. "Sleep good?" Dean asks, setting the water down on the coffee table.  
  
"Very well, thank you," Cas answers, looking away from the TV briefly.  
  
They need to talk about what happened the night before; Dean doesn't want to, naturally, and he can almost believe it was just some fantasy his sex-deprived mind dreamed up, but that doesn't change the fact that they really should talk about it. He has no way of knowing if Cas regrets it or if he feels like Dean took advantage of the situation or if he wants to do it again. Hoping for the last option, he take a deep breath to speak, but Cas beats him to it.  
  
"About last night..." Cas hesitates. "I hope that was all right.”  
  
"It was awesome," Dean enthuses - because _damn_ that was one hell of a blowjob. It's all too easy to act like he doesn't know what Cas is really asking.  
  
"Well, I don't want things to be weird between us or anything." Turns out Cas isn't going to let him gloss over the issue after all.  
  
"Nah," he says flippantly. "It's nothing we haven't done before. And it doesn't have to mean anything, right?"  
  
"I suppose so." Cas sounds uncertain.  
  
Feeling like he needs to reassure them both, Dean continues. “’Friends with benefits’ is totally doable. We just keep things casual, no strings attached, and we both get to have great sex on a regular basis."  
  
Dean watches his friend’s expression throughout his whole spiel and while he frowns when Dean says "no strings attached", he appears to be mostly agreeable to the idea. So Dean gives his closing argument: "There is literally no downside."  
  
Nodding seriously, Cas agrees that they can try being friends with benefits and they go back to watching the news.  
  
Inside his head, Dean is high-fiving himself. Friends with benefits is like the holy grail of sex! What could possibly go wrong?  



	9. Before the Sun Goes Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after the first chapter of my story I Dreamed a Way to Ignite, which is the PWP that inspired this entire series. There are a few mentions of sounding in this chapter, referencing the events of the PWP.

I keep remembering the summer night  
And the conversation breaking up the mood  
I didn't want to tell you you were right  
Like the season changing, oh, I felt it too  
 _(Hold my Heart)_

 

 _July 2005_  
  
Dean is roused from a deep sleep, feeling warm and comfortable and safe. Running his fingers along the arm squeezing his middle, he shifts closer to the body spooned up behind him. Then he feels something jab him in the ass and he freezes, suddenly completely awake, as everything from the night before comes rushing back.  
  
 _Oh shit._  
  
He’s in bed with Cas.  
  
Cas slept over last night, after they had sex.  
  
And Cas’ morning wood is poking him.  
  
Moving carefully as not to wake him, he slides out from under Cas’ arm slowly. His bedmate grumbles in his sleep as Dean moves away and rolls onto his back, but Cas stays put and allows Dean some room to breathe. And to think.  
  
Last night was one in a long line of hookups since that first drunken encounter a month ago. They’d agreed that making out or blowjobs now and then didn’t mean anything. Friends with benefits suited them just fine. There was no reason to make a big deal out of it as long as they didn’t cross the line and let their emotions get involved.  
  
And asking Cas to sleep in his bed last night _definitely_ crossed the line. _Fuck_. This could ruin everything.  
  
He scrubs his hands over his face roughly and the movement brings Cas awake. He frowns when he notices that Dean has moved away and starts to slide closer before Dean sits up.  
  
“Good morning, Dean,” he rumbles, his voice rough from sleeping.  
  
Despite his conflicted thoughts, a smile breaks over Dean’s face as he looks down at his friend as he stretches under the sheets. “Morning, Cas,” he answers.  
  
As his luck would have it, his friend is nothing if not observant and notices the tense line of Dean's shoulders. "Is everything all right?" Cas asks as he sits up as well, running a hand through his already ridiculously messy hair.  
  
"Everything’s fine," Dean answers curtly, averting his eyes from where the sheet is pooling in Cas' lap, then makes an effort to seem untroubled by relaxing his posture. "No worries, man. I just gotta get ready for my shift at the garage."  
  
"Of course,” Cas replies and slips out of bed, completely comfortable in his nudity.  
  
Dean watches him walk to the bathroom, admiring the sleek lines of Cas’ back and ass, then shakes his head to clear it. _Keep it together_. He busies himself clearing up his clothes scattered on the floor and feels his face heat up when he finds Cas’ boxers mixed in with his own clothing.  
  
This is getting ridiculous.  
  
After tossing Cas’ underwear towards the bathroom door, Dean turns on his heel and heads toward the kitchen, feeling the need for some strong coffee. His mind is still reeling over the events of the night before and the way it just felt right to wake up next to Cas. They've talked about their relationship a lot in the last few months. Never explicitly, of course - never going so far to say that they want to be together - but things have been a lot better. A normal Friday night consists of going out to a bar together and playing pool, or darts, and every once in awhile, they go dancing. At first it had been an awkward process of each finding a girl to dance next to but before long they decided to hell with it and danced with each other. After, they’d go home and make out for hours. They’d accepted it as their new norm and before last week, it looked like that might be the way things would stay. And then Cas had to find his sounding kit and it all went to hell. Dean really can't bring himself to regret it, though.  
  
Emerging from the bedroom a few minutes later, Cas follows the scent of the brewing coffee with his nose in the air. He detours into the living room to get dressed and by the time Cas joins him in the kitchen, the coffee is done and Dean fills two cups, holding one out for Cas. His friend reaches eagerly for the mug and smiles fondly when their fingers brush, then moans happily as he drinks the first sip.  
  
Trying to ignore the arousal that courses down his spine as he remembers Cas moaning just like that last night, Dean slurps his coffee too quickly, feeling it scorch his tongue. Cas frowns in concern when Dean curses, but he waves him off, setting his cup in the sink. Once Cas is finished, they hesitate, feeling the weight of the night before hanging over their heads. Taking a tentative step forward, Dean lifts a hand to Cas’ shoulder, then slides it up his neck, tangling his fingers in Cas’ hair. When Cas doesn’t pull back, Dean tugs him in and places a soft kiss on his lips, tasting coffee as well as a hint of mint toothpaste.  
  
The urge to drag Cas back to bed and spend the rest of the morning curled up together hits him hard, but Dean pushes it away. They’re already treading on thin ice at this point and it’s time to take a step back onto solid ground.  
  
Cas leaves not long afterward and Dean breathes deep, determined to keep his head on straight as he goes about getting ready for work. He hops in the shower, washing off briskly, until his hand encounters the spot on his thigh where the hair is still slightly matted together. Memories from the night before come rushing back and he’s instantly hard as a rock as images of Cas kneeling naked on the bed and coming all over Dean’s skin appear in his mind’s eye. He jerks off quickly, annoyed at himself for wishing he’d asked Cas to stay and shower with him.  
  
He’s ten minutes early for his shift at the garage and he stands at the front counter chatting with Ash, nodding distractedly as the man raves about the rock concert he went to the week before. Bobby pulls a Toyota Corolla into Dean’s station and waves him over, so he slaps Ash on the back and gets to work.  
  
Two hours later, he’s almost done with the Corolla, but the work should have only taken him an hour. Most days, he can switch his brain off and lose himself in the work he’s doing, but today he’s preoccupied. The memory of Cas’ hand on his dick, combined with the feeling of the sound sliding in and out, distracts Dean just enough that he drops the wrench he’s using and it clatters to the concrete floor of the garage, ending up just out of reach. “Damn it,” he mutters, and rolls out from under the car.  
  
“You all right there, Deano?” Ash asks from where he’s leaning against the side of the car, a knowing smirk on his face.  
  
“Just peachy,” Dean grumbles, stooping to pick up the wrench and tossing it in his toolbox. He figures its about time for a break; maybe that will help clear his head. The trip to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water only allows him more time to think about how Cas' face looked when he came and how unbelievably hot it had been that he got off on seeing Dean use the sound on himself.  
  
 _This is not good._  
  
Returning to the Corolla, he ducks down closer to the engine to peer at one of the belts, determined to stay focused. It works for a grand total of maybe five minutes before his mind wanders and again he's dwelling on how amazing it felt to wake up safe and warm in Cas' arms that morning. It had just seemed natural to kiss him goodbye before they parted ways and it ended up being affectionate and chaste; the kind of kiss he never realized he wanted, but now he wants as many as he can get. Then it hits him: it was the type of kiss people share when they're together. In a relationship. _I want that. Oh my god, I've been a complete idiot._ With that realization, Dean stands up, banging his head on the open hood and cursing loudly.  
  
"Winchester!" He hears Bobby yell across the shop and Dean rubs the sore spot on his scalp. Today is not his day, he thinks as he meanders his way through the other cars on the floor and braces himself against the frame of Bobby's office door. Putting on a confident expression, he waits for the other man to look up from his paperwork.  
  
"Do we have a problem?" His boss asks reluctantly, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else than here talking to Dean about his personal issues.  
  
"No, Bobby, everything's good," Dean insists, resisting the urge to touch the back of his head again where it's throbbing in time with his heartbeat.  
  
Bobby sighs. "Right, which is why you're throwing the goddamn tools everywhere."  
  
"I dropped it," Dean mumbles, knowing that's not the point.  
  
"Look, son, if anyone else was messin' up like you are and swearing all over the place, I'd have to think about sending 'em home for the day," Bobby says. "Do you think you can pull yourself together and do your damn job?"  
  
All Dean can do is nod and his boss breathes a sigh of relief. "Good, because we really need to get that Corolla done, plus that F250 sitting out back."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Dean answers, waving a hand as he turns around to head back to his station.  
  
There's got to be a way that he can lock these thoughts away and make it through the rest of his shift. Standing by himself in the center of the garage, he takes a few more minutes to think. Clearly good communication is their best bet; if he and Cas can discuss what they want and figure this thing out, they can avoid the pain and unpleasantness that happened last time. That's the answer: he'll take Cas out somewhere and they'll talk. They'll decide what to do and how to move forward before they make the same mistakes.  
  
Decision made, he gets back to work.

* * *

  
  
Dean is well aware that Cas is freaking out as they drive through town, bypassing all their usual haunts. His own heart is beating a mile a minute and it’s all he can do to keep his eyes on the road. He has a plan and he's sticking with it; hopefully Cas will give him the benefit of the doubt and let him say what he needs to say.  
  
Once they get to the restaurant, Cas looks at him uncertainly and damn, what if this is a huge mistake? What if Cas doesn’t want to have a serious relationship and he just wants to fuck around? Dean shuts down that train of thought because of course that's not what Cas wants.  
  
Dean orders a beer, needing a bit of liquid courage now that they've settled in and are looking at each other cautiously. Reminding himself he wants this - wants _more_ with Cas - his heart barely skips when Cas finally speaks.  
  
"What's going on, Dean? Is this a date?" His friend asks, his forehead creasing into a frown as he leans forward in an attempt to keep their conversation private.  
  
Inexplicably, Dean falls into his old habit of deflecting, even though that's the last thing he'd planned on doing. He smirks and murmurs "do you want it to be?" before he even has a chance to think it through. _Shit!_ He doesn't want Cas to think he isn't serious.  
  
"Dean." His friend sounds displeased, his voice low. Cas leans back, and Dean recognizes the signs of his friend pulling away from the situation to protect himself.  
   
"I'm sorry, Cas. This is me, asking sincerely: do you want it to be?" There, he'd been honest and made himself vulnerable; he is starting to understand that that's what Cas was looking for. No more bravado, no more posturing. Just honesty. Yikes. He watches Cas sigh and struggle to answer, so he jumps in again, feeling a rush of adrenaline from telling the truth. "I just want to do this right this time, you know? No sneaking around, no lies - no matter how good the sex is, I don't want to risk losing you again."  
  
He holds back a laugh as he sees Cas look at the people around them, but he couldn't care less if people overhear their conversation. He focuses again when his friend speaks. "I agree. Both of us have grown up a lot since we met, but I'd rather not repeat that experience."  
  
"Exactly!" Dean can't help but exclaim. Thank God Cas feels the same way. Better make doubly sure. “So that’s a yes?”  
  
Holding Cas' gaze even as he squirms a bit, waiting for his response, he feels as though a weight has eased off his chest when Cas answers. “Yes, Dean, I’d like for this to be a date.”  
  
“Awesome,” Dean responds, feeling like he's on top of the world. Time to order the biggest helping of pasta he can get his hands on.

* * *

  
  
_September 2005_  
  
Things are good. It feels as though all their cards are (finally) on the table and everything is clear between them. Being comfortable talking about his feelings is still a struggle for Dean, but he’s doing his best to be honest and open with Cas and so far it’s working out well.  
  
One of the first things Dean asks Cas about is the situation with his family. All he knows is Cas came out to them years ago and since then, he's spent most holidays with Dean's family and rarely goes home. Even when his friend and former roommate Michael got married a few months ago, and Cas was invited to be included in the wedding party, he declined and spent as little time among the church group as possible. Cas insisted at the time that his decision was easy and it didn't bother him, but Dean recognizes the faraway look Cas sometimes gets when he's stuck in that same endless cycle of doubt and insecurity. All Dean could do was give Cas a hug and tell him he'd made the right decision.  
  
When Dean brings up Cas' family now, on a warm autumn evening as they sit side by side on the couch in Dean's living room, Cas sighs deeply. The familiar scenes of _Dune_ flicker on the TV screen as Cas' forehead creases with a frown; Dean instantly regrets asking, but doesn't feel he can take it back now. Instead he reaches over to hold Cas' hand, which is something new for them, but Dean enjoys it immensely. Cas looks over at him, his facial expression smoothing considerably as he meets Dean's gaze. He squeezes Dean's hand gently and leans his head against Dean's shoulder.  
  
"My relationship with my parents is still strained," Cas begins. "They definitely don't understand most of what I've told them; only that I'm dating a man and as such won't likely provide them with grandchildren."  
  
A few different responses filter through Dean's mind, from sarcastic to completely unhelpful, but he settles on, "Well, knocking up a chick isn't the only way to have kids. There's always adoption. I think I'd like to be a dad, eventually."  
  
The look of complete fondness that breaks over Cas' face is totally worth it. "You'd make a wonderful father, Dean," he says, quietly.  
  
"So would you," Dean tosses right back. They sit in comfortable silence for another few minutes, until Dean remembers something he'd seen pinned above Cas’ desk: a card with contact information.  "And Dr. Barnes helped you with talking to your parents, right?"  
  
"Everyone at the center on campus was amazing. I don't know if I would have made it through school if I hadn't contacted Pamela."  
  
Dean feels a twist of guilt in his stomach; he was to blame for Cas' state of mind at that point. If he hadn't stomped out of the apartment in a rage, if he had listened to what Cas was trying to say, they wouldn't have wasted a year being miserable and being apart. His friend had mentioned, during a late evening spent drinking beer and playing video games, how he regretted saying the things he had. But Dean always told him he was forgiven, that it was his fault anyhow. They had just barely avoided an argument at that point by both acknowledging that they'd made mistakes. It'd stuck in Dean's mind, though.  
  
"I'm glad you found someone to talk to, since I was a complete ass and cut you off from all your friends," Dean apologizes yet again. One of the hardest things to come to terms with was the realization that because of their fight, Cas had felt like he couldn't talk to Sam or Charlie anymore. When they first started spending time together, Dean had assured Cas that his friends were Cas’s friends, but when it came down to it, they were Dean's friends first. Not that he had any intention of telling them to stay away from Cas, but that’s how the world works. If he had known at the time that Cas was in danger of falling into depression, he might have made an effort to forget their argument and fix things then and there. But he hadn't known.  
  
"Dean, we've talked about this. There was nothing you could have done at the time. It was something I had to deal with on my own and once I did, things made a lot more sense."  
  
"If you say so," Dean hedges.  
  
With a half-serious glare in Dean's direction, Cas leans in to peck a kiss on his lips. The familiar rush of affection for his best friend - for his _boyfriend_ \- threatens to swamp him like always. The fact that he's allowed this now, despite (or maybe because of) what they've been through in this uncharted journey together, never ceases to amaze him. He never thought he’d be this lucky.  
  
“Move in with me,” Dean says in a rush, almost without realizing he was going to say it. There’s a split second of doubt as he sees Cas’ eyes widen slightly, but before Dean can even open his mouth to take it back, Cas is in his lap, kissing him deeply.  
  
“I’d like that very much,” Cas whispers when they stop to take a breath.  
  
Dean grins, rolling his hips up against Cas to hear him gasp. “Awesome,” he growls, then kisses his way down Cas’ neck.  
  
Oh yeah, things are _really_ good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me on this wild ride! I appreciate all the comments and kudos. Thanks once again to my beta, Jess (wincechesters.tumblr.com) - you're the best!


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